


Your Fingers Round My Thumb

by legallyblained



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2030637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legallyblained/pseuds/legallyblained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to tragic circumstances, Kurt is left to raise a baby alone. He hires help in form of 24-year-old nanny, Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

”I’m warning you Kurt, this baby had better be good- _Ah!_ ”

She doubled over again as they waited for a nurse to see them.

“Rachel, she’s half you. She’s going to be fabulous. Now keep breathing just like they taught you-”

“Yeah, well good luck breathing when I tie your windpipe in a knot for doing this to me!”

Kurt ignored the voice in his head that kept telling him this had all been a terrible idea. It was about nine months too late to think like that now. They’d both always wanted kids, and the most stable relationship either of them had ever had was with each other. They lived together, they went out together, they had the same friends; they were already a family. Why not make it official? Rachel’s hand clamped onto his even harder, making him lose his cool for a second.

“Fuck! Oh, God, I mean, uh, was that a bad one, Rach?”

“A _bad_ one? A _bad_ contraction of my uterus as it stretches to fit a person out? Well gee, Kurt, have you had a _bad_ kick in the face lately? Or have there been any _bad_ mass killings in the area?”

“Excuse me nurse, how long do you think it’ll take for us to get a room?”

The nurse peered over her desk to get a look at Rachel, who was clinging to the counter and growling at Kurt under her breath.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

***

Rachel’s hair was plastered to her face and her feet were in stirrups. She didn’t like it. At least her hospital gown covered up the stuff Kurt really didn’t want to see. She kept scrunching up her face to power though the pain and making indistinguishable sounds as Kurt tried and failed to comfort her.

“I know it hurts-”

“Kurt, not being rude, but you don’t have a vagina.”

“No, you’re right, but you’re doing so well, I promise-”

“Kurt. Be quiet. Just hold my hand- Hnaargnh…”

She kept panting and squeezing Kurt’s hand until he had to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming. There was enough of that in the room already. It stopped suddenly as the beeping coming from the monitor by Rachel’s head started speeding up. The numbers on the screen were getting higher and higher, and a doctor rushed in and started to put his hands on Rachel. She looked to Kurt, terrified. He didn’t have any words of comfort. He was as clueless as she was. The doctor moved his hands down, still saying nothing to either of them, making Rachel wince. Kurt leaned up to kiss her head. She’d forgotten about the pain. Something was wrong.

“Doctor?” Kurt piped up as soon as he remembered to breathe, “What’s happening? Is everything okay?”

“Hmm. The baby’s heart rate has gone down. We really need to get her out as soon as possible.”

He was so clinical. Obviously this was just another day at work for him; things went wrong and he fixed them, but they’d never done this before. It was their baby. At the thought of losing her, Kurt knew they hadn’t made a mistake. The heavy, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he was already in love with this little girl. He couldn’t handle losing her now.

“Okay, so what now? Is she dilated enough?”

“Do I have to push?”

“No. We don’t have time to wait for that now. It looks like the cord has gotten wrapped around the baby’s neck, so we’re going to have to go into surgery.”

Everything was a blur of wheels and swinging doors and scrubs and medical words they didn’t understand, and before he knew it Kurt was back at Rachel’s side, trying to pretend he wasn’t terrified, trying to keep her calm. She could barely keep her eyes open, having been in labour for eight hours, and Kurt kept stroking her hair and desperately attempting to decipher what was being said over his head.

“Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m… I’m scared.”

More than anything, he just wanted to tell her it would all be fine, that soon they’d be back home with their daughter and they would be happy, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t promise her anything.

“I know, Rachel. I’m scared too.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her head under his chin, feeling her cold sweat against his neck.

The shouting stopped.

They heard her before they saw her. It was hardly surprising that she was loud. She was laid across Rachel’s chest, still covered in blood and squirming, but undoubtedly alive.

“We’re just going to get her cleaned up. You might want to rest, while you still can. I think this one’s going to be keeping you up a lot.”

Kurt and Rachel smiled at each other, both of their eyes brimming.

“We… we’re-”

Kurt nodded.

“Yeah. You did it, Rach, I’m so proud of you.”

She cupped his face with her free hand, the one that wasn’t still clinging to Kurt.

“Thank you, Kurt. I still can’t believe it, but thank you so much.”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t even do anything!”

“Well, thanks anyway.”

“Rachel, she’s beautiful. She’s got your eyes.”

“Let’s just hope she doesn’t have my nose.” He laughed and kissed her head again. “Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you go with her?”

“Rachel, I want to stay with you, she’ll be fine-”

“I know, I just… I want her to be with her dad. She shouldn’t be all alone on her first night here.”

He put his hand over hers and nodded.

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

“Oh, and Kurt, one more thing?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Rach.”

***

Kurt was sitting next to the crib, thinking about names. He’d already given Barbara and Patti a firm no. He had his hand in with her, stroking her face with the back of his finger, staring at her tiny ears and nose and mouth. He was still in shock. He was a father. He had a daughter- with Rachel, of all people. He wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“Mr Hummel?”

Kurt turned to see a different doctor from before, in pale green scrubs and a white coat. He looked much more official. He didn’t move his hand away from the baby.

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid there were complications.”

“What?”

“There’s no easy way to tell you this, but… Rachel died at 3:15 this morning. We did everything we could-”

“What? No! She can’t – what was wrong? I don’t understand…”

“After you left, she started haemorrhaging. We tried to stop it, but she’d lost too much blood. I’m so sorry. We’ve called her fathers and they should be here in an hour or so. Is there anything I can do?”

Was that it? Was that all he had to say? There’s one thing you can do – you can bring my best friend back. You can bring my baby’s mother back. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t help wondering how differently the doctor would have broken the news if he’d been her husband, or any kind of romantic partner. Like that would be a more valid relationship. That had never mattered to them. They were intent on spending the rest of their lives together, raising their daughter, and now… Now he was alone.

His hand went limp next to the baby, and he felt her grasping onto the tip of his little finger. He shook his head at the doctor silently. There was nothing either of them could do. The doctor walked away, and Kurt stood up to look more closely at her. He put his shaking hands into the crib, sliding his fingers underneath the tiny thing in the woolly pink hat, gasping when she wriggled, terrified of hurting her. She mewled quietly and her nose twitched as he lifted her up, balancing her carefully on his hands. He shifted around awkwardly and slowly until he was holding her to his chest. She breathed a delicate sigh, finally comfortable when she could feel that he was at ease, and the combination of her soft skin, her dark hair and her gentle whimpers was too much. It was too Rachel. Kurt shook violently as his head fell forwards and his face crumpled. He stood, crying, with his daughter in his arms, and he breathed in that smell before it got away. He knew this was as close as he would get to holding Rachel again.

The baby sensed his discomfort in the stiffness of his arms and started to cry with him. He tried to soothe her despite the cracks in his voice.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.”

He held her close and rocked her gently. It was all he could do. The only other person who could have comforted her would never get the chance.


	2. Chapter 2

A day later, Kurt was allowed to take the baby home. Considering how traumatic her birth had been, she was doing surprisingly well. She was pretty tough for someone who couldn’t hold her own head up. Kurt was glad he hadn’t driven to the hospital, because he was physically incapable of driving back now. He’d refused to go home without his daughter, even if it meant sleeping at the hospital – not that he’d slept. He climbed out of the taxi and the driver had to help him haul the car seat out. After two days where sleep had been replaced with crying and staring at the baby, this small gesture of kindness was enough to make him want to collapse in the stranger’s arms in gratitude, but he simply held out a couple of limp twenties.

“Don’t worry about it. Driving that little angel, it was my pleasure.”

It must have been obvious what had happened.

Kurt wanted to refuse. The voice in his head told him he didn’t need charity and that money wasn’t a problem and that he was stronger than that, but he couldn’t argue. It was the only break he’d had in a while. He smiled weakly and mumbled a ‘thank you’, staring down at the baby again so the man wouldn’t see his eyes glistening. He deliberately made his way up the front steps as slowly as possible, so the taxi would be gone by the time he made it to the door. He had to be alone for this. Well, _they_ did. He wasn’t completely alone.

It didn’t look any different. The key stuck in the lock the same way, the floorboards creaked in the same place when he stepped on them, the clock on the wall still said twenty past eight as it had for the last six months because they’d both forgotten again and again to buy new batteries. It was exactly the same, but Kurt had never been in this house before. It was so quiet. Obviously it had been quiet before. Of course there had been times when Kurt had the house to himself, times he’d relished, but it had always felt like she was still there. Was he imagining it, or had the scent of her already started to fade? He put the car seat down on an armchair and carefully scooped the baby out. She was awake but silent, already so comfortable in his arms.

Without thinking about it, he started to give her a tour of the house. The ground floor was one big room, with light wooden floors and an eclectic mixture of furniture they’d been collecting since college; the violet, velvet sofa, lumpy from both of them flopping onto it after long days of work or shopping or rehearsal, the white table and mismatched chairs and the kitchen he’d spent a month baby proofing and getting his dad to check in case he’d done it wrong. He whispered to the baby as they walked through the house. He didn’t know why he didn’t just talk; it wasn’t like anyone was going to overhear him.

He paused when they reached the full length mirror in the hallway. Kurt hated it at first; it seemed garish and tacky with the ridiculous embellishment on the frame, but he grew to appreciate the effort that had gone into carving it. The design was so delicate and ornate, full of spirals and swirls. Once they stopped making him dizzy, after Rachel painted them silver instead of magenta, they were beautiful.

“I remember your mom buying that. I was walking home when I saw her trying to heave it up the steps. It was bigger than her. As soon as she saw me she started screaming about what a bargain it had been, and I couldn’t stop laughing at her. God knows how she got it as far as she did. She squealed every time I almost dropped it while she supervised me hauling it inside. Seven years bad luck, breaking a mirror.” He reached out to trace the detailed pattern with his fingertips, staring at it in the hope that somehow his hand would become hers, somehow she’d appear in front of him and slap him away for ruining her handiwork. He looked back into the glass at the tiny creature now sleeping against his chest. He realised he hadn’t really been talking to her anyway and smiled.

“Boring you already, huh? I guess I really am your dad.”

He kissed her head, closing his eyes and keeping still for a moment. Her dark wisps of hair were so soft and she kept making tiny snuffling noises. He reminded himself to make the most of her being quiet; with her genes it wouldn’t last long. He finally raised his head and found himself faced with the staircase. He looked up apprehensively, stroked the baby’s back and kissed her head again, for his own comfort more than hers.

“Well… we’re gonna have to do this some time. Come on.”

He padded across the landing to the open door at the end of it and took several deep breaths, bracing himself as he went inside. The smell hit him all at once, overwhelming him. It was shampoo and perfume and moisturisers and just Rachel. He saw the bottle green sweater draped over the chair at her desk/vanity table. Cosmetics scattered everywhere. A music stand with sheets lined up perfectly straight. He walked towards it and read the words of the last song she’d practised: ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’, from My Fair Lady. He’d had to put up with her British accent for weeks when she could still manage rehearsals. She was freaking out for so long about whether or not they’d let her back after having the baby and he’d spent countless nights reassuring her that any company would kill to have her as their Eliza, with or without baby weight. Kurt’s eyes stung as he realised just how pointless it had all been.

He calmed the baby down from some kind of non-existent discomfort, holding her close and whispering ‘shh’, closing his eyes. She had barely stirred. He stumbled slightly as he made his way to her bed. His breaths were short and stilted and his head was spinning and he realised just how long it had been since he last slept, and he sat down, leaning against the head board. A picture on the wall caught his eye: him and Rachel, eyes closed, laughing hysterically at something. It could only have been a month or so old, because her belly was swollen. She was clinging to the bump for dear life and he could still hear her gasping for breath and giggling uncontrollably, but he couldn’t remember what was so funny. He couldn’t imagine anything being that funny again.

_“Rach, I look awful! Any other picture, please, just don’t put that one up!”_

_“No, Kurt; this one’s my favourite. It stays.”_

_“But I look ridiculous-”_

_“You look happy. It’s perfect.”_

Kurt finally started to relax as he was enveloped by the feeling of Rachel, the smell, the softness of her sheets, her picture smiling down at him. The steady rhythm of short breaths against his shirt was soothing, and his eyelids gradually started to droop. For the first time since they’d left the house two days ago, he fell asleep, his daughter dozing on his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt had no idea why Eliza wasn’t settling down, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. He tried to rush around the house to get ready to leave, occasionally running back to the crib to soothe her. He talked to her as he ran from the coffee machine to his desk, packing up a stack of drawings, a tape measure, various supplies of needles and thread. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and was glad he just worked behind the scenes. He was in no fit state to perform. On this little sleep, he was taking enough of a risk just fitting costumes. He’d already fallen asleep once at the sewing machine, narrowly escaping a stitch through his thumbnail, and stabbed a chorus girl with a needle, and so far everyone had been making allowances for him. He couldn’t help worrying that soon their sympathy would run out. He was pushing his luck at two months.

The child minder was late again. Kurt needed to go. He had so many alterations to make and only a week left before opening night, and he needed to stop the dancers from ripping each other apart, and it was getting to the point where he’d have to take the baby with him. The director wasn’t a baby person. Unfortunately everyone else was, which made Eliza’s presence distracting for the entire company, meaning rehearsal went even more slowly, which pissed her off even more. That baby was getting in the way of her vision being realised, and Kurt knew he couldn’t keep bringing her with him despite the swell of pride he felt in his chest when everyone told him how gorgeous she was and how well she was behaving.

He knocked back the final dregs of his coffee, spilling a drop on his collar; he groaned with exasperation but did nothing about it. There wasn’t time. His bag was bulging with supplies for the day and if he didn’t leave in the next five minutes he’d be screwed. He lifted Eliza out of the crib and she finally stopped crying. She was still whimpering with discomfort as she felt the tension in the arms holding her, but at least the screaming was over. Kurt allowed himself a few seconds of just standing with her, calming her down.

“Okay, baby, I know, it’s alright, I’ve got you…” his voice was so gentle and familiar that she rested her head against his shoulder. Just as she started to fall asleep and he resigned himself to the fact that she’d be coming to work with him again, the doorbell rang and she started crying again. Kurt immediately started stroking her back in circles, which always helped, still talking to her as he went to the door, rolling his eyes as the bell rang again. 

“Alright, I’m coming; you can’t really act impatient when you’re the one who’s half an hour la-”

He pulled the door open to reveal Hiram and Leroy, grinning earnestly.

“Is this a bad time?”

Kurt was stunned into silence for a few seconds.

“Wh- what are you doing here? Why didn’t you call? I have to- I’m-”

“Oh, we just thought we’d drop by to see our little princess…” Hiram interrupted, sweeping in and lifting Eliza out of Kurt’s arms. He was too surprised to stop him, but he winced at that word. He’d made a silent agreement with himself never to call her ‘princess’. He wanted her to aspire to something more than that.

“Oh Kurt, sorry, were you going out?” Leroy asked when he stepped in and saw the bag by the door.

“Well, I…” Kurt was floored. He couldn’t handle these two right now. “I need to go to work, but Maria didn’t show up, and I’m late, so…”

“You want us to take her? We’ve got no plans!”

Kurt sighed. He hated when they did this. They’d gotten into a pattern of dropping round unexpectedly. He understood how badly they wanted to see the baby, wanted to hold onto what was left of their daughter, but it was always at the worst possible moments. He’d been meaning to talk to them about it and nip it in the bud, but right now he couldn’t refuse.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t ask, but-”

“We know you wouldn’t ask, Kurt. You never ask. It’s okay to admit you need a little help.”

“I don’t need… this isn’t my fault. It’s Maria, she’s late, and I was just going to take her…”

“You can’t keep taking her to work. It’s no place for a baby.”

“Well, it’s not ideal, but-”

“Don’t worry about it. Just go to work. We’ll take care of Eliza, won’t we, sweetheart?” He held the baby up to his face, rubbing their noses together. Kurt hesitated. At least she wasn’t crying. He really did have to go, but he couldn’t help thinking this made him look irresponsible – changing plans at the last minute, leaving the baby with the first people who offered, even if they were her grandparents, and the house wasn’t exactly up together. His hand darted up to cover the splotch of coffee on his collar.

“Oh, well, I’d really appreciate it. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not! Any excuse to take care of our favourite granddaughter!” Leroy peered over Hiram’s shoulder to pull faces at Eliza. She giggled. It was probably better for them to look after her. They were family. Kurt wanted them to see her and bond with her and spend plenty of time with her, but they could be a little overbearing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he admitted to them that he was struggling that day, they wouldn’t let him forget it. It seemed like the perfect excuse for them to nudge their way further into his life, and he couldn’t tell them to back off. They’d lost enough. He breathed in, trying to think of an alternative, but nothing came to him. He looked at their hopeful faces gazing lovingly at the baby, and he couldn’t say no.

And he really needed to go.

“Okay. Yeah. Great. If you’re sure you-”

“Kurt, we told you, it’s not a problem. We want to help; now go to work. She’ll still be in one piece when you get home.”

“Right, right, and you’ve got my number if anything happens, all the other numbers you could need are on the fridge – my dad, work if you can’t reach me, the paediatrician, and you know where everything is-”

“Kurt. Stop. We’ve done this before, remember?”

He smiled at them sadly.

“Yeah. Sorry.” They kept smiling, even though it was forced, knowing they didn’t have time to start thinking about Rachel now. Kurt looked at Eliza instead. “Okay, baby, come here; let me say goodbye properly.” He took her from Hiram for a second and tried to ignore the twinge he got in his stomach every time he had to leave her. She blinked those enormous brown eyes at him and he knew that the second he was out of the door she’d be fine, but he held her as if it were for the last time. “Alright, now be good for your grandpas, okay? I love you so much.” He was practically whispering to her now, all too aware of the men next to him eager to snatch her away for the day. He reluctantly handed her back to Hiram, who received her with wide eyes and a smile. Kurt made himself smile back so Eliza would see he was fine. He had to convince himself he was fine, or he’d never leave. He picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder and opened the door. He darted back to kiss Eliza’s head one more time before swallowing hard, whispering ‘bye’ and running out.

***

It was a relief to get back on his street that evening. It was already getting dark. He’d spent the whole day checking his phone every five minutes as he did every time he left the baby at home, but he was so sure today would be the day something went wrong. Today he’d been caught off guard and changed the plan at the last minute, even if it was for a perfectly safe option. Hiram and Leroy were good with the baby and she liked them, but he could never really get rid of that guilty feeling over leaving her and being a burden on them. They were desperate to help, but he still felt like he was messing up their day – messing up everything. He felt like he was failing. He could feel control slipping away.

He was less patient than usual with the awkward key. He rolled his eyes at the frozen clock. He forgot to tread gently on the creaky floorboard. He dropped his bag with a thump on the coffee table and saw Hiram and Leroy at the table drinking coffee. They were quiet.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen? Where is she?”

Leroy stood up first.

“She’s fine, Kurt, she’s sleeping.”

Kurt’s face fell. He hated missing her bedtime. It was one of his favourite parts of the day, when she was peaceful and sleepy and he just loved being there to tuck her in. He looked up and noticed the house felt different – tidier.

“Oh, you didn’t have to-”

“It was no problem. You know what Hiram’s like; he can’t stand any mess. Not that it was a mess, it was just, uh, we couldn’t find anything so we just gave the place a once-over.”

Kurt looked at his feet sheepishly. He knew it had been far from spotless. Usually after work and looking after Eliza, he barely had the energy to feed himself, never mind clean the house.

“Uh… thanks. It looks a lot better.”

Hiram got out of his chair and perched on the edge of the table, folding his arms.

“Kurt, we’ve been thinking. We know it can’t have been easy for you the last couple of months, and we wouldn’t be surprised if things had been getting on top of you. It’s not your fault.”

Kurt wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. He was doing everything he could, but he couldn’t honestly say he was coping. Leroy saw his downcast expression and put a hand on his arm.

“And we should have done more to help. We know you don’t like asking, so we thought we should probably just offer; lay it out there.”

“You mean like today? I mean, today was a one-off, with Maria not showing; I really don’t mind taking her to work once in a while-”

“Really? Think about it, Kurt. You work in a theatre, surrounded by scissors and needles and loud noises. That can’t be a good environment for a baby.”

“Wait, I always make sure she’s safe. You know she’s my top priority. If you’re suggesting that she would be in any danger with me-”

“No, of course we’re not, are we Hiram?”

“No, Kurt, that’s not- I mean- we just wanted to make a little suggestion.” Kurt raised his eyebrows. He didn’t have the energy for this. “We thought that maybe Eliza should-”

“-Could, she could maybe stay with us for a while. Just for a week or something, to give you a break.”

“What?”

How could he take a break without his daughter? Coming home to her was the best part of his day.

“We’d be happy to take her, and it would only be for a little while-”

“No.”

“Kurt, we’re just trying to help-”

“No. I don’t need- well, maybe I should get help, but the last thing I need is for you to take her.”

“So, what are you going to do? You can’t keep going like this; it’ll only get harder.”

“Hold on. I know things have been hectic, but did you notice anything wrong with Eliza? Is my daughter unhappy in any way, or less than perfectly healthy?”

“No, Kurt, considering the circumstances you’ve been amazing. She’s doing really well-”

“All we’re saying is that it wouldn’t hurt you to ask for help if you need it. Maybe you could hire someone – someone a little more reliable.”

“A lot of people have live-in nannies but it doesn’t make them bad parents. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Kurt looked from Leroy to Hiram and back again. They couldn’t have rehearsed a better good cop bad cop routine. He suddenly felt exhausted. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t felt tired, but now he could barely stand. The idea of someone else living here, sleeping in Rachel’s room, looking after his baby – it was terrifying, but he knew if Hiram and Leroy had their way, Eliza would be going home with them tonight. He wanted to fight, but a compromise would have to do. He just didn’t have the energy to argue. He heard himself relenting, agreeing with them until they finally left. He closed the door and inhaled the silence that filled the house.

After drowning in chaos all day, this should have been bliss. Nothing to be late for, nobody screaming in his ear about headpieces, no baby crying or sort of fathers-in-law pushing their way into the house… but he was surprised to find he didn’t like it. In fact, he hated it. It was almost eight. He threw some dinner together, humming to himself, and read while he ate. He had to read every sentence four times and his eyes ached. He thought about turning on some music or watching a film, but he risked waking Eliza or falling asleep on the sofa. He cleaned up, poured himself a glass of wine and sat with a magazine, flipping through to look at the pictures instead of reading the words. He carried on humming absent-mindedly. Eventually he gave up as he felt his eyelids getting heavier, rinsing his glass and wandering upstairs.

He slipped into Eliza’s room. He could still hear Burt asking ‘Isn’t it supposed to be pink for a girl?’ when Kurt had insisted on duck egg blue, and he’d painted pale cherry blossoms weaving around the top of the walls, connecting to and wrapping around each other. There were two cream armchairs, each with dark pink pillows embroidered with shades of blue, a bookcase and dresser in pale wood, and the crib in the middle. The wood was pale to match the other furniture, and there was a mobile above it adorned with birds of different colours.

Kurt switched on the fairy lights that bordered the bookcase, providing the room with a soft glow. He smiled when he finally heard the gentle breathing of his daughter. He glanced at the outlines of the armchairs in the dark room. Two chairs for two parents.

He loved being a father. Even when he was exhausted and he couldn’t find any clothes that weren’t stained with sick or formula or drool – that was why he hated the term princess; she was cutest when her mouth was hanging open and she had a splotch of milk drying on her cheek – he couldn’t help smiling every time he looked at her, but it was only half of what he’d imagined. Despite finally having some sort of family, he’d never felt so lonely.

The first time Eliza smiled, Kurt had automatically looked around, expecting to see someone else as excited as he was, but the room was empty.

He whispered brokenly into the darkness.

"Why aren't you here, Rachel? She needs you... I need you."

As his mind drifted back to what he'd agreed to, Kurt felt slightly sick at the idea of someone else raising his daughter. Someone he didn’t know sleeping in Rachel’s bed and doing things she was supposed to be doing.

But the thought of having someone to share Eliza with? Someone to talk to when the baby was asleep and there were no grandparents or dopey brothers or friends keeping him company? Another adult voice in the house again?

Kurt realised he’d pressed his hand over his mouth to hide his smile, even though the only person there to see it was asleep. It felt like he was already cheating on Rachel just by considering it, but it had to better than doing this alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt looked at his list again. Technically she fit every criterion. She had qualifications and experience and everything he was looking for, but then he looked up at her again. Hiram was practically vibrating next to him, wanting to bite her arm off as soon as she extended it for a handshake. Maybe it was the fact that she was called Hilda, maybe it was the hideous dogtooth pattern on her skirt, maybe it was her stern expression, but something told Kurt he didn’t want her looking after his daughter. Eliza seemed to have to same idea and was grizzling from her crib. Kurt got up to see what was wrong and to get away from the woman glaring at him, but she raised a hand as if he was a dog that she wanted to sit down.

“Allow me.”

He slowly lowered himself back onto the couch next to Hiram who nodded at him pointedly as if to say ‘See? She’s so eager!’ but Kurt was still unsure.

She hoisted the baby up vigorously, only making her more upset, and rocked her too quickly and roughly. She carried on talking to Kurt as she held her, not once making eye contact with the baby.

“So, I was with the Walker family for three years in total, raising four boys – their parents trusted me entirely with disciplining them, and I would expect the same level of trust here. I’m not afraid to be firm with a child if it misbehaves.”

Kurt gripped onto the armrest of the sofa as Eliza blinked at him desperately. He wondered exactly how she’d been ‘misbehaving’ to deserve this. He thought maybe he was being overly protective and worrying too much. He kept telling himself he was bound to feel like that after what had happened to Rachel and that he shouldn’t coddle her, but she just looked so miserable. He was about to take her, but Hiram put a hand on his arm, anchoring him to his seat.

“She just needs to get used to her. Give it a minute.”

Kurt winced and rubbed his forehead anxiously, trying to convey some kind of sympathy to his daughter through a look because apparently that was all he was allowed to do.

“I’ll cook for her and myself but not for you. You are not my responsibility. Your advertisement said accommodation was included?”

“Absolutely. You’ll be in the… the spare room. It’s just upstairs; shall we?”

Kurt stayed in the living room as Hiram showed her the rest of the house, taking deep breaths. He tried to accept that Hiram knew what he was talking about and he’d done all of this before and that he hadn’t exactly been doing brilliantly by himself so far… but he was being told how to raise his daughter in his own home, and the whole time he had to watch her looking so uncomfortable and confused. Rachel would have told her father to back off and leave them to it, but Kurt couldn’t say anything. It’s hard to argue with someone whose daughter has just died. He sat up straight, ready to join them when the doorbell rang. Thank god.

Carole bustled in with shopping bags, kissing Kurt on the cheek and apologising for their lateness as she made her way to the kitchen. Burt stepped in behind her, smiling at Kurt and pulling him in for a hug. Kurt was pretty sure he’d heard a couple of eggs crack against his thigh in the bag Burt hadn’t bothered to put down. Part of him wanted to roll his eyes because his father had been hugging him like that a lot lately, but instead he smiled into it. He’d never needed it so badly.

“You’ve started without us, I take it?”

“Oh, don’t.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I seem to be having a decision made for me. He’s infatuated. She’s horrible.”

“You know, Kurt, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do-”

“Yeah, yeah, well you try arguing with him.” Burt raised his eyebrows for a second before marching past him towards the voices upstairs.

“No, Dad, I didn’t mean- oh, crap…”

He ran up after him into the room that had barely been opened for three months. He was so distracted by Eliza’s distressed mumbling that he didn’t even notice where he was until his feet touched her carpet. Again, he was surrounded by all things Rachel, from the photographs to the notes in her handwriting to the sweater on the chair, and he tried to close his eyes to shut it out but it only made the smell more powerful. He flashed back to the day he brought Eliza home, but this time he couldn’t just curl up on the bed, and he didn’t have the baby to hold onto. Instead, she was in the arms of a stranger who was making her miserable. He could see the music on the stand without opening his eyes, and felt both of his Elizas more distant than ever. It was like he was nine again, lying in his parents’ room alone with the drawers open.

“I take it this was her room? The mother?”

Hiram gazed around at the virtually untouched bedroom, a tremor in his breath.

“Rachel, yes.”

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

If it was possible to physically hurt a sound, Kurt would have strangled her soulless words and thrown them down the stairs. Hiram nodded and swallowed hard.

“Thank you. It’s been difficult, but at least we’ve got this little angel with us. She’s got her mother’s eyes.”

Kurt realised his nails were digging into his palm.

_Well if you want what’s best for her, why aren’t you showing this woman the door?_

Burt gave his shoulder a squeeze, sensing his annoyance, and scooped the baby out of Hilda’s arms.

“Hey, cutie! Let me see my granddaughter.” He lifted her above his head and tickled her stomach with his nose, making her cheer up instantly and gurgle with joy. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. “Wow, Kurt, she’s getting heavier every day. That’s a really good sign.” He grinned at his son, who smiled back gratefully. It was nice to hear that he wasn’t a total screw-up. Burt extended a hand to Hilda, who seemed a little shocked by his taking charge like that. 

“Burt; Kurt’s dad. Thanks for coming. We’ll let you know.”

“Burt, I think-”

“C’mon, Hiram, we can’t keep her all day. You seem like a busy lady, and we have another candidate to see. He should be here any minute.”

“Actually he _should_ have been here five minutes ago-”

“All the more reason to get going. Sorry about this, ma’am, but as you can see, things are pretty hectic around here.” She didn’t like being called ‘ma’am’ one bit.

“Of course. I understand. I need to go anyway.”

She knew she was getting the brush-off, but she wasn’t about to admit defeat so openly.

Hiram rushed after her, giving Burt a confused look, but she’d closed the door behind her before he reached the bottom of the stairs. Burt shrugged and walked into the kitchen where Carole was still packing the food away. He still hadn’t eaten the last truckload of food she’d brought them, and he was the only one in the house who could eat solids, but Kurt still smiled at her.

Hiram wasn’t happy.

“What was that?”

“Kurt didn’t like her.”

“When did he tell you this?”

“I could tell. And did you see her with Eliza? You didn’t like her either, did you?” He tickled the baby he was holding to his chest. “We don’t have to settle for the first person we see.”

“You didn’t see her references. She had qualifications coming out of her ears!”

“The only qualification she needs is to be good with the baby. She wasn’t. That’s all there is.”

“But you didn’t even-”

“I didn’t have to.” There was a ring at the door. “Saved by the bell!”

Hiram hopped to the door before the others could answer it. Kurt gave his father an exasperated look, but Burt handed Eliza over to him and kissed her on the head.

“I know, Kurt. Give this guy a chance. He might be perfect.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted that.

They heard a voice from the hallway.

“Is this a Mr… Hummel’s house? I’m here for an interview; I think I’m late but my bike had a puncture. Sorry. Oh, right, yeah-”

Hiram ushered him into the kitchen. Kurt was speechless. He didn’t exactly look like a nanny. His face was bright red and his hair was half sticking out in wild springs and half stuck to his forehead where he’d been wearing a helmet, which was now tucked under his arm. He’d obviously been in a hurry. Points for safety and eagerness, if not punctuality.

“Hi, great to meet you. I’m Kurt, this is my dad, Burt, his wife, Carole, and this is Hiram.”

He was still panting. He didn’t shake any hands, but offered them all a shy wave and an earnest grin.

“Hi, I’m Blaine,” he shifted uncomfortably with five pairs of eyes on him, until he looked at the baby. Their faces lit up simultaneously. “So this must be Eliza!”

“Oh, right, of course! Sweetheart, you want to say hi to Blaine?”

Blaine put his helmet on the table and lifted the baby out of Kurt’s arms with a wide, open smile plastered across his face.

“Well, aren’t you _beautiful_?” He stared right into her eyes and she smiled back at him. She didn’t make a sound but stared up at him in wonder as he held her close to his chest. She’d never been that calm with anyone she hadn’t met before. Kurt was amazed. Blaine kept whispering to her, tapping her nose and lifting her chin with his finger so he could get a better look at her face. He kissed her on the cheek, then noticed everyone staring.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry; Was that not okay? I get it if you’d rather I didn’t kiss her, I mean you haven’t even given me the job yet, oh, not that I assume you’re going to… sorry.”

Carole put a hand on his back to break the tension.

“No need to apologise, Blaine; if she doesn’t mind, we don’t mind. You’re fine, aren’t you honey?” she cooed to Eliza, who didn’t take her eyes away from Blaine.

Hiram was on edge.

“So, Blaine…”

“Anderson.”

“Mr Anderson, right, do you have any references? Certificates?”

“Oh, right, about that…”

He handed the baby back to Kurt carefully, only breaking eye contact with her to smile nervously at Kurt, and swung his rucksack around from his shoulder. He reached inside it and pulled out a few of sheets of paper, neatly folded but crumpled in transit and passed them over to Hiram. He looked less than impressed.

“This is it?”

“That’s the thing; I don’t exactly have official experience…”

Hiram looked up from the paper in his hands.

“Cooper Anderson?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother. I know, it doesn’t look great, but I’ve been looking after his kids since they were born.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen to show them a picture. “That’s them; Stacey’s five and Henry’s seven. Cooper and his wife work a lot, so I’m kind of their full-time babysitter – well, I was, but now that they’re both at school I needed to move on. And, um,” he ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, “I hate to bring it up, but I really need to move out. My roommates kind of drive me crazy. I just want to be in a real house that’s not full of students. They’re pretty disgusting.”

“So. Babysitting. That’s your experience?”

Hiram gave Kurt a look to remind him of the fully qualified woman they’d just turned away.

“Well, I was basically their nanny. I cooked for them, and read with them, and made sure they brushed their teeth, al the normal stuff; they’re really great kids-”

“I don’t doubt that, but do you have any qualifications? Have you had first aid training? Do you know CPR?”

“Well, no… but I'd be happy to learn. I could take a class or something if you want me to. And I’m an expert with scraped knees, splinters, stuff stuck up noses – Henry’s pretty curious – just read what Cooper’s written-”

“Well it’s hardly surprising that your brother’s given you a glowing recommendation. Is this seriously your only reference?”

“Well, I worked in a couple of bars when I was in college for extra money; if I can deal with drunks, I can handle pretty much anything a kid can throw at me.”

“Great. A bartender and a babysitter.”

“Hiram,” Kurt glared at him, “why are you being so rude?”

“Well, why were you so rude to the first one?”

“Come on, did you see the way she was holding the baby? She looked bored of her after three seconds, and Eliza looked like she’d rather get dropped on her head than spend another minute with her-”

“She knew CPR-”

“Well I know my daughter!”

The room fell silent. Eliza started whimpering into Kurt’s shirt. Blaine put his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet. Carole took him by the arm.

“Honey, why don’t I show you around? I think these two need a minute.” She nudged him towards the stairs and he gladly obliged. He had a feeling they weren’t really arguing about him anymore. The kitchen stayed silent for a few more seconds until Burt spoke up.

“So, he seems nice.”

“We need more than nice-”

“Well, we need more than CPR-”

“You both need to stop arguing. This isn’t helping that baby one bit. Hiram, I know you’re missing Rachel. I know you want to hold onto this little piece of her, and nobody’s stopping you, but Kurt’s her dad. Would you have let anyone tell you how to raise your kid?”

Hiram raised an eyebrow and looked down at his folded arms.

“Now, Kurt, if you think Blaine is better for Eliza than that other woman, that’s fine. He’s obviously good with kids, but you know if we try to give an opinion, it’s only because we all love this baby with everything we have. It’s good that we care this much. Now if we start being a pain in the ass, you’ve got to tell us. There’s no point walking on eggshells here. We’re a family. We’re a big mess of a family, so we’ve got to be honest with each other. Deal?”

Kurt and Hiram nodded.

“Now, I’m going to give Carole the all-clear. Hand over that baby, I want to hold her for a second before we go.”

Kurt snorted and passed Eliza to his father, kissing her on the head to let her know everything was fine. She blinked at him with a hint of a smile over Burt’s shoulder as he headed for the stairs, leaving Kurt and Hiram alone.

“I’m sorry, Hiram. I just… I just had a bad feeling about her. The baby was looking at me like she needed rescuing, but with him she was so relaxed. I know you’ve done this before and I haven’t, but it feels like you’re questioning everything I do. I already doubted whether or not I was ready for this, but I thought if I had all of you backing me up it’d be okay.”

“I know. Kurt, I’m sorry, I just wish there was more I could do. I’ve never felt so helpless-”

Kurt nodded and sniffed.

“You know, Rachel always used to tell me what great parents you were.”

“Really?”

“Constantly. Do you think it was because you were efficient? Because you had qualifications? It was because she knew how much you loved her; because every time she felt sad you would bring her a glass of water and talk to her and hold her until she was smiling again. Do you think Hilda would have done that?” Hiram looked at the floor. “Blaine seems nice. I’m not saying he’s going to love her as much as we do, but we’ve got more of a chance with him than anyone else. You know how fussy Eliza can be when it comes to people, and you saw the way she smiled at him. It’s not just about references. He was a natural with her. I’m giving him a chance.”

“I just thought she-”

“I’m not going to cut you out.” Hiram finally stared straight into Kurt’s eyes as his own were filling with tears. “I know you think I’ve got some plan to keep you away from her, but she needs you. I need you. Who else is going to tell her what Rachel was like when she was little? Who else is going to make sure I get all the Jewish stuff right? You’re in her life whether you like it or not. Okay?”

Hiram blinked quickly, giving a sheepish nod and composing himself as the others came back into the kitchen. Apparently Burt trusted Blaine enough to give Eliza back to him, as he walked in first, bouncing her up and down gently and grinning at her whilst talking to Burt and Carole. The baby was gurgling contentedly and smiling back at him.

“I can’t believe how gorgeous this place is – or how gorgeous this little girl is!” He tickled under her chin and kissed her head, “What is she, three months? She looks great. Stacey was really sick when she was little; Eliza seems a lot tougher. Oh man, I hope I get to look after you,” he mumbled softly, pressing his forehead against hers and letting her grab onto his thumb. Burt and Carole followed him, smiling. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. If they approved, he must be right. Blaine looked up at Kurt again and tried to put on some kind of business face. Fortunately, it was completely unconvincing. “So, uh, have there been a lot of candidates? I don’t want to sound pushy, but, you know, how am I doing?”

Kurt glanced at Hiram, one eyebrow raised. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“You’re doing pretty well; so well, in fact, we’d like to offer you the job. When can you start?”

“Seriously? Just like that? Well, I can start tomorrow, as soon as you’d like! Wow, I can’t, I mean, uh, thanks. Thank you so much.”

“Well, this didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would. Honey, maybe we should leave them to it; let everyone get used to each other.” Carole nodded and said goodbye to Kurt and Eliza, smiling and patting Blaine’s arm to calm him down. Burt glanced pointedly at Hiram, who realised he should probably go as well. “It was nice meeting you, Blaine. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of each other.” Burt shook his hand firmly and slapped his shoulder, unable to stop himself playing the protective father and grandfather, even though Blaine already had his approval. He and Hiram took turns saying their goodbyes and showing Kurt through subtle smiles that they supported him.  
Kurt took a deep breath when he’d closed the door behind everyone. It was weird having another adult left in the house when they’d gone. He wandered back into the kitchen to see Blaine still whispering to Eliza. He was looking at the photos on the fridge, pointing some out to her.

“Who’s that, Eliza? Is that Daddy? And are those two your grandpas? They all love you so much, and well… I know this is a little soon and I don’t wanna come on too strong, but I think I love you too,” he muttered, tickling her until she gurgled again. “So who’s this? Is that your mom? She’s beautiful-”

“She was.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I know, Blaine. It’s fine. Did Carole explain what happened?”

“Yeah. It sounds awful; you must have been so…” He gave up on finding the right words. They both knew none would help, and he didn’t want to patronise him with another clichéd offering of sympathy. Kurt smiled at Eliza through the silence as she kept staring up at Blaine, and carefully lifted her out of his arms. He almost flinched when he felt the warmth of Blaine’s chest against his; it was a long time since he’d been that close to someone he’d only just met. He concentrated on Eliza. He couldn’t already be such a sad old man that he was getting excited over a little closeness.

“It’s getting easier. Having her makes all the difference. I mean, I miss Rachel. I miss her every day, but now that I’ve got Eliza, I can’t imagine not having her, you know? I think the worst part is knowing that she’ll never have a-”  
Kurt’s voice cracked. He’d thought it so many times, but saying it aloud brought it all back. He stopped, swallowed and took a second to breathe. Blaine smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Kurt, you’re doing so well. I know it’s weird coming from me, but I know parents, I’ve dropped kids off at play dates, and this is one of the happiest babies I’ve ever seen. She adores you; just look at her.” He did. She was nestled against him, eyes open, her fingers in her mouth. No squirming, no uncomfortable mewling; she just relaxed into him. He always took it for granted, but maybe he really was good at this.

“Wow. I usually try not to break down in front of people I’ve just met; especially if I’m technically their boss.”  
Blaine grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looked almost out of place without a small person to hold onto.

“Don’t worry about it. I mean, if I’m going to live here I guess we can’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. You don’t have to be all distant just because you’re paying me.”

“Good, because I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.”

Blaine laughed.

“Okay; how about we even the score. What do you want to know about me?”

He walked over to the coffee machine and raised his eyebrows at Kurt, who nodded back.

“Milk’s in the fridge. Two sweeteners, please; it’s all there. Hmm, what do we want to know? Eliza, are you curious about anything?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s got me all figured out already. What about you?”

Kurt was a little taken aback. He hadn’t had much of a chance to think about himself since Eliza was born. He’d thought about pretty much everyone else and eventually slipped to the bottom of his list.

“Oh… okay, um… how come you’re doing this? Your application said you majored in music at NYU; why the urge to look after a baby? Is it just the accommodation?”

“No!” Blaine said a little too hurriedly before he realised Kurt was joking. “Oh, it just didn’t really work out. Music’s always been important to me; I love singing and I play a few instruments, but something about working in it sucked all the fun out of it. I hated being told how to do everything, how to play properly and how to write ‘accessible’ songs… I stopped loving it so much. So I took a year out and helped Cooper with Henry, and it never got boring. He basically let me do what I wanted with him, because he knew I wouldn’t drop him out of a window or leave him alone or feed him sugar all day, and it was great. I guess I’d always thought I’d have to wait until I had my own kids to be able to spend my time looking after them, but once I realised I could do it for a job I knew it was perfect.”

Blaine handed Kurt a coffee and sipped at his own.

“Oh. Fair enough.”

“A lot of people get weird about me, though. People who see themselves as liberal are always asking, ‘you’re a man, and you look after kids for a living?’ Like I’ve just told them I have a tail or something.”

Kurt snorted.

“Well, I think it’s cool. I had a dozen applicants and you were the only guy. I mean, that’s not why I hired you-”

Blaine smiled.

“I know; don’t worry.”

“I think it was just a relief to see that it wasn’t all women. Kind of reassured me that men can do the whole kid thing too.”

Blaine’s phone started ringing in his pocket and he jumped as it vibrated against his leg.

“Sorry, it’s Cooper, do you mind?” Kurt shook his head and Blaine answered. “Hey, Coop- what? Well, can’t you call anyone else? I’m still kind of at my interview-”

“It’s fine, Blaine. You’ve already got the job. You can go.”

“Cooper, hold on…” he looked back to Kurt, “Are you sure? I’d stay, but Stacey’s at a birthday party and she’s throwing up, and nobody else can get her-”

“Hey, if anyone understands childcare problems, it’s me. Go.”

“Okay, okay, I can go. You owe me one. So now we’re up to five thousand and one. Right; I’ll see you later.” He rolled his eyes as his brother kept rambling down the line. He mouthed ‘thank you’ to Kurt. “Yeah- yep- Cooper, I said I’d do it. Stop talking. She’s at Emily’s, right? Cool, I’ll have her home in an hour.” He hung up and looked at Kurt apologetically.

“I guess you’d better get going.”

“Yeah. I wish I could stay, but I guess we’ve got plenty of time to continue this. So, what time do you want me tomorrow?”

“Eight? I leave at eight thirty, so that should give us time to go over some stuff. And don’t forget to bring, you know… your stuff. I guess it’s moving in day as well.”

“Right, yes, of course.” He gave a little nervous laugh, fumbling to put his phone back in his pocket and pick up his bag. Now that he had to leave, they both became painfully aware that next time they saw each other they’d be living together. “Um, thanks again, for the job. I really can’t wait.”

“It’s the baby you should be thanking. If she hadn’t liked you, you’d have been out the door.”

He grinned at the baby.

“Well, thank you Eliza.”

He put a hand on the baby’s back, but jerked away when his fingers brushed against Kurt’s. Their eyes met and they both immediately looked back to the little girl who was calmly observing their interaction.

“You should-”

“Yeah, yeah, I should-”

“Yeah.” Blaine made his way to the door. “Blaine?”

“Hmm?” he shouted back from the hallway.

“Your helmet.”

“Oh, right, safety first. Thanks.”

“One more question. Do you ever sing or play anymore?”

Blaine shook his head.

“It still feels too much like school. I don’t know. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

He heard the door click shut and looked back at the baby, who was staring at him. Obviously she didn’t really have an expression, but he had a feeling that if she had the motor skills to raise a single eyebrow, she would have done it.

“Shut up. Talk to me when you can stand up. In fact, talk to me when you can talk.” She continued to look up at him. He was pretty sure she hadn’t blinked in over a minute. He didn’t know the age at which babies started judging, but she seemed to be particularly advanced.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt clenched his stomach, trying to make the butterflies keep still for a second as he answered the door. He made sure he had the baby with him when the bell rang, to provide a distraction and prevent any awkwardness. He’d been re-reading Blaine’s reference from his brother all morning to reassure himself that he’d made the right decision. He tried to shut up the voice in his head saying ‘ _you just met this guy yesterday, and now he’s coming to live here and look after your baby_ ’ and drown it out by mumbling to himself ‘ _reliable, loving but firm, the kids’ favourite uncle…_ ’ along with other quotes from Cooper. The more he read, the more certain he was that Blaine was too good to be true. Apparently he’d taught both kids to swim, planned their birthday parties, and made sure they crossed the street safely, but one part stuck out for Kurt. It let him know Blaine was the person he wanted.

_‘Blaine has a kind of intuition when it comes to children. He was the only one who realised Henry was struggling at school and thought he could be dyslexic. He spoke to his teachers and if it hadn’t been for his help then I can’t imagine how miserable my son could have been._

_‘No matter what my wife and I said, Henry was convinced he was stupid, but Blaine sat with him every night to help with his reading and encouraged him to do more practical activities, and now he’s doing a lot better. He loves reading and is happy to ask for help when he needs it instead of keeping quiet, and he plays soccer with his friends after school, but if Blaine hadn’t been there he could still be suffering in silence._

_‘Blaine may not have a certificate to prove that he’s qualified to look after a child, but I have two happy, well-adjusted kids who adore him and they’re all the proof you could need that he is more than capable. He knew something was wrong when nobody else had a clue, including myself, and thanks to him Henry knows that there’s nothing wrong with him. We basically owe him our son’s happiness, and he’d go the extra mile for any child in his care. He doesn’t need to do any kind of training to know how to raise a kid; he’s already raised two.’_

Kurt tried to tell himself that anyone could write that, just make it all up to get their brother a job, that he needed to be cautious for Eliza’s sake, but he couldn’t bring himself to be too suspicious of Blaine. He couldn’t fake how good he was with the baby or how his face lit up when he held her or how awkward, almost upset he’d looked when he had to give her back. And Dad liked him. Dad’s good at this. I’m right. It’s okay. He’s okay.

He pulled the door open to reveal Blaine, one bag over his shoulder and another in his hand, smiling as earnestly and nervously as Kurt. He caught Kurt’s eye for a second and they held each other’s gaze in silence before he flicked straight over to Eliza. Apparently talking was a lot easier when they weren’t making eye contact.  
That’s fine. She’s the one he’s looking after, not me.

Kurt wasn’t even convincing himself.

It didn’t take them long to get back to where they left off yesterday. Kurt asked after Stacey, Blaine said she was feeling better when he left last night, Kurt said he’d been reading Cooper’s letter, Blaine blushed, and they sat down for a quick cup of coffee before Kurt had to leave. Blaine fed Eliza while Kurt organized the sketches scattered on the table.

“So everything’s pretty easy to find; formula’s in there, bottles and everything in that cabinet, obviously you can help yourself to any food you want, and there are phone numbers on the fridge… Anything I’m forgetting?”

Blaine looked around the kitchen as if he was looking for prompts on the walls.

“I can’t think of anything… oh, I guess I should probably have a key…”

“Right, of course,” he jumped up to get the spare set from the bowl by the door, “this one’s for the front door, and this is the back. Oh, and there’s money in that jar if you need it for anything, food or whatever.”

Blaine was distracted by the baby, rocking her slightly as she clung to the bottle he was holding to her mouth. He took a deep breath as she relaxed in his arms and Kurt almost melted looking at them both – the way Blaine was gazing down at her, a tiny creature nestled in the crook of his elbow. As if leaving wasn’t already hard enough. Blaine looked over to Kurt and snapped back into concentration.

“Right, great, thanks. I won’t, though. I mean, I have money; I don’t want to take anything from you on my first day except the baby. You know, to look after her… I’m not gonna eat her or anything.”

Kurt snorted. Was he always this awkward when he spoke to adults?

“Good. Well, I guess I should get going,” he wasn’t used to leaving on time, pausing with his satchel over his shoulder and his keys in his hand, sure that he’d forgotten something. “Umm… anything else you want to know?”

Blaine finally felt settled enough, now that he was holding Eliza, to look him calmly in the eyes. He felt much more at home dealing with a parent who didn’t want to leave their baby.

“Just one thing. When do you get back?”

***

Kurt bounded up the steps at six on the dot. The whole day had been strange. Of course he’d still checked the clock every other minute to see if it was any closer to home time, but he wasn’t anxious or dreading what he might find when he got home. He always suspected Maria would ignore Eliza in favour of the other kids she took care of during the day - always the concern with child minders. With Hiram and Leroy he’d be afraid they would have whisked her away without telling him. Even when Burt and Carole looked after her, he’d been worried about them inviting everyone they knew over to prod at their perfect granddaughter. None of it ever happened, but he was still a relatively new parent and he couldn’t help getting nervous.

Today was different. There was someone in the house whose priority was Eliza, someone who wasn’t supposed to be anywhere else, somebody who seemed to want nothing more than to hold her all day. He was still apprehensive about later on – Blaine sleeping in Rachel’s room – but he managed not to dwell on it. He hadn’t made a single mistake at work. He called back at lunchtime to make sure everything was alright, but he hadn’t been itching to check up on them all morning like he usually was.

The key slid into the lock a little more easily than usual. A huge grin was plastered over his face as he remembered that no matter how weird tonight could be, he wasn’t going to be alone in the house.

He heard voices as soon as he got inside. He frowned for a second, then remembered how much Blaine seemed to like talking to the baby and relaxed until he could have sworn he heard her talking back.

“But why isn’t he at school?”

Wow. He knew Blaine was good, but apparently he was some kind of wizard. He took another step inside and noticed that everything was spotless. He’d managed to make it look vaguely presentable before he left, but the floor was practically glistening. He kept trying to figure out what was going on, when he heard the voices coming from upstairs.

“Right, like how you’ve been at school all day?”

“That’s different; I’m sick.”

“Not too sick for a story.”

“No, that’s just because the story makes me feel better. I go to school the rest of the time; why doesn’t Artemis have to go?”

“Because he’s an evil genius. He doesn’t think he needs anyone to teach him anything, and he’s too busy trying to save his dad. He’d rather steal gold and be in charge of everybody else.”

“But nobody can do that all the time. He’s only twelve. Who looks after him?”

“Maybe he thinks he doesn’t need anyone.”

“But everybody needs someone.”

_Okay. Either I’ve been at work for a few years or there’s another kid here, but the house is clean. I can’t hear Eliza, but she’s probably asleep. Or Blaine’s eaten her. Either way, at least she’s not crying._

Kurt almost hit himself. That was not an appropriate joke to make about his daughter. He crept slowly upstairs as the voices continued.

“Sometimes people need help and they don’t even know it. I guess somebody should just jump in there and take care of him without him asking.”

“How come he knows about the elves in the first place? How come he can speak Russian? Oh, and why hasn’t Mulch been in it yet? He’s my favourite.”

“Well, how come you’re asking all these questions instead of listening to the story?”

Kurt finally reached the door to Eliza’s room where the sound was coming from, but he was reluctant to open the door. He was enjoying story time, even though he had no idea who Blaine was reading to and he hadn’t heard any of the actual book. That didn’t matter; he knew a Colfer reference when he heard it. He pushed the door open to see Blaine on one chair, Eliza cradled in the crook of his elbow and Artemis Fowlspread on his lap. A girl was sitting in the other chair, knees pulled up to her chin and her blonde hair bursting out of two plaits. Her head was flopped against the back of the seat and she was grinning at Blaine mischievously, chewing on her lip. Blaine caught sight of him in the doorway mouthing ‘hi!’, hating to interrupt. He put the book on the floor.

“No, why are you stopping? We haven’t even finished the chapter!”

“Stacey, look behind you.”

The little girl turned around and blushed furiously when she saw Kurt. She gripped tighter onto her shins. Kurt smiled at her.

“Hi.”

“Stace, this is my…”

“Kurt. I’m Eliza’s dad. Nice to meet you.”

He held a hand out to her and she took it, narrowing her eyes slightly. He was talking to her like an intelligent human being. Usually it was only her uncle who did that.

“I’m Stacey. Blaine’s my uncle.”

“So I hear. He’s told me all about you and your brother. Guess what?”

She still looked suspicious.

“What?”

“Mulch is my favourite too.”

Her face lit up; obviously this man was trustworthy.

“Have you read this one? Does he come back?”

“I’m not telling you that; it’s cheating! I bet Blaine could read us some more if we asked him really nicely.”

Kurt squatted in front of Blaine, taking Eliza’s hand between his thumb and forefinger. He smiled down at her, eyes and mouth wide open, and leaned in to kiss her head. She smiled back at him dozily.

“I kept her awake so you could put her to bed; I wasn’t really sure about her routine, but I figured you’d want some time when you got home.”

Kurt just about managed to hold in the enormous grin he could feel bubbling up from his stomach. He coughed slightly before allowing himself a subtle, nonchalant smile.

_Why are you trying to play it cool? Nothing’s. Going. To happen._

“Perfect,” he said to Blaine as he dropped his bag on the floor and scooped Eliza out of his arms, whispering “hey, baby girl, have you had a good day? Has Blaine been taking care of you? I missed you so much…” and kissing her head between sentences. “Was she OK? Were there any problems?” He ignored the goosebumps spreading along his arm where it had brushed against Blaine’s.

“No, no, she was great. It was this one I had trouble with,” he nodded at Stacey. She looked down at her knees ashamedly. “Sorry for bringing her here, but she still wasn’t feeling too great so I had to pick her up from school. Nobody else was free.”

Kurt bobbed down to catch Stacey’s eye, smiling warmly.

“Hey, I don’t mind. It’d probably be weird if I asked him to read it to me.”

“Stace, why don’t come sit with me so Kurt and Eliza can have that chair?”

She scrambled up in a flash and climbed onto Blaine’s lap. Kurt took her place, sitting cross-legged in the enormous squashy chair with Eliza curled up in his arms while Blaine kept reading to them. Stacey poked him whenever he did one of the voices wrong, and kept asking questions despite his refusal to answer them.

Kurt stroked the baby’s cheek with the back of his forefinger as she drifted off to sleep, comforted by his familiar scent and the feel of her father’s arms around her. He smiled at her, then at Blaine and Stacey. He knew now that he deserved that reference. She clearly adored her uncle, and she eventually fell asleep too, her head resting on his collar bone. He folded the corner of the page down, closed the book carefully and looked up at Kurt.

“Are we good?”

Kurt nodded.

“She’s out.”

Blaine carefully dropped the book on the carpet so it wouldn’t make any noise and somehow got to his feet, balancing Stacey on his hip. She automatically cuddled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and making sleepy snuffling noises.

“Do you mind if I put her in my- Rach- in… bed? Just until Cooper comes to get her?”

Kurt paused. He knew someone would have to sleep in that room some time. It wasn’t as if Blaine was going to sleep on the floor. He wasn’t about to turn Rachel’s room into a shrine to her memory, but that didn’t stop it feeling weird. He must have tensed up, because Eliza started squirming in his arms and Blaine managed to free an arm to touch his shoulder gently. They both glanced at the baby, still bundled up in his arms, and Kurt took a deep breath and smiled.

“Hey, if you’re not comfortable-”

“No, Blaine, I’m being ridiculous, it’s fine. It’s your bed now.” He held Eliza closer for a second and kissed her forehead before putting her down in the crib. “Why don’t I get us something to eat while you put her down?”

Blaine didn’t know what to do. He knew if she didn’t sleep on a bed Stacey would be in a foul mood when Cooper came to pick her up, but he didn’t want to force Kurt to do anything he wasn’t ready for.

“No, I wanted to cook, to celebrate my first day and everything, and you’ve been at work-”

Kurt didn’t look up from the crib. He knew one sympathetic look from Blaine would reduce him to tears.

“So have you. It’s okay.” He turned and walked toward the stairs without a glance back at Blaine. He kept rambling about how fine it was as he ran to the kitchen. “I like cooking; it helps me relax at the end of the day, call it a housewarming…”

Blaine let him babble away as he heard pans clattering from downstairs. He instinctively put a hand over Stacey’s ear so she wouldn’t get woken up, even though he knew she wouldn’t stir if a stampede of dinosaurs ran through the house.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, “let’s get you to bed.”

He lay her down without pulling the covers back and picked up the blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed, draping it over her.

“Night, sweetheart. Try not to puke in here.”

He was about to leave her and follow Kurt downstairs, but he stopped when he got to the door. He turned back to Stacey, who’d started snoring. Somehow with her mouth wide open and her hair in a giant tangle around her head, she still looked adorable. He sat next to her on the bed, ignoring her knees digging into his hip, and ran his fingers through his hair as he talked to her.

“What should I do, Stacey? He… he seems fine one second and then it’s like he’s trying not to cry.” He took her hand absent-mindedly. “I don’t know; I- I just wish I could help.” He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. He took a deep breath and stood up. “Maybe I should go and talk to him, instead of the girl drooling on the pillow I have to sleep on.” He leaned over to kiss her on the temple and stroke her hair, making her nuzzle against the pillow and pull the blanket around herself. He couldn’t help grinning at her.

***

“Oh my God; I’m glad you didn’t let me cook. This is… how does a single working parent cook like this? It’s just, oh my God…”

Kurt laughed. It was light and delicate and soft, and it was the first time Blaine had looked up from his plate for a long time. He stopped chewing for a second and looked up at him. Kurt had finished ten minutes ago, and was leaning back in his chair and sipping his coffee and watching Blaine eat. Blaine had finished fifteen minutes ago, but he’d sheepishly asked for seconds.

“I think you already said that. Never become a food critic.”

Blaine was captivated by his smile for a minute. There wasn’t much that would have distracted him from his food, but there was something about Kurt right now… Blaine had only really seen him smile, properly and without reserve, when he was looking at Eliza. It was that warm, fatherly smile. A smile that said he was head over heels in love with this tiny creature, that he’d do anything to keep her safe, but this smile was different. He wasn’t a father, a busy costume designer, or a man mourning the loss of his best friend. He was just a man. There was a sparkle in his eye that hadn’t been there before. He was more relaxed, more grown up, not thinking about what he’d lost or the responsibilities he had, but just enjoying himself. He noticed Blaine staring at him.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

Blaine flinched, blushed and pushed the food around his plate with his fork.

“No, no, I just, I, uh, I haven’t heard you laugh like that before.”

Now it was Kurt’s turn to blush.

“Well, to be fair, you’ve only known me a day.” They smiled at each other, both thinking it felt like longer but both too nervous to say it. “I promise I’m actually pretty fun.”

“I believe you.”

They both fell silent.

Their eyes locked for just a second before the doorbell rang. They both jumped up to answer it and paused facing each other from opposite sides of the table.

“Oh, right, that must be-”

“Coop, yeah, I’ll-”

“Sure, I’ll just clear-”

“No, let me-”

“Blaine, really, I don’t mind. Just let him in.”

“Okay, sure, I’ll just-”

Blaine didn’t know how that sentence was supposed to end, so he just stopped talking and ran to the door.

“Hey, Blaine; I’m so sorry you had to get her, is she alright?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine; she’s asleep upstairs.”

“Are you alright? You look a little flushed.”

“What? No, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Cooper raised an eyebrow at him for a second before shrugging and wandering through to the living room. He spotted Kurt clearing the table and walked over, sticking a hand out.

“You must be Kurt. Cooper Anderson, I’m Blaine’s brother.”

Kurt spun around to face him. Cooper couldn’t help noticing he seemed distracted, but again he shrugged it off.

“Of course, great to meet you. Your letter was lovely.”

Blaine grinned at Cooper as if to say ‘Ha, you love me, you’re so busted!’ Cooper cleared his throat and smoothed his coat down, embarrassed.

“Oh, that, yeah… well, I had to trick somebody into hiring him.”

For a second Kurt’s eyes widened, but then he recognised the reluctant display of affection between them and knew he was kidding. It was like being back in Lima with Finn, except now he was in his father’s place, laughing at them. He gave a long, exaggerated sigh.

“I should have known it was too nice to be legit. Never mind, you’re here now. I’m not doing the whole interview thing again.”

He caught Blaine’s eye again for a second. They both laughed nervously. Cooper looked at them both and smirked.

“Hey, Blaine, could you go and get Stacey for me? I just want to tell Kurt what he’s let himself in for and talk him out of letting you stay. He seems like a good guy; he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Very funny. Just a second.”

Blaine disappeared upstairs, leaving Kurt and Cooper in the kitchen.

“So, how’s he doing? Are you two getting on okay?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes slightly. He was confused by the way Cooper was looking at him. He was being almost too polite.

“Well, nothing’s gone wrong yet, I guess. Stacey’s adorable, by the way.”

Cooper grinned.

“I know. It’s all her mother. Sometimes I wish she liked me as much as she does her Uncle Blaine, but he has a way of charming everyone, doesn’t he?”

Kurt tried to figure out if that was a smirk or just a smile flickering over Cooper’s lips. He was about to ask if something was wrong, but Blaine came back in with a sleepy girl’s legs wrapped around his waist and her head resting against his shoulder. She was blinking, awake but not entirely conscious.

“Hey, Coop, I think this belongs to you.”

Cooper flicked his head around and smiled when he saw his daughter. Kurt ignored the weirdness as soon as he saw his face light up at the sight of her. Blaine passed her over, careful not to wake her, and Cooper closed his eyes to kiss her hair as she draped herself over him. She whispered a sleepy ‘hi, daddy’ and he whispered back, ‘what do you say to Blaine and Kurt?’

“Thank you for having me, Blaine and Kurt. I’m going to bed now.”

Cooper nodded.

“Looks like I’m leaving. It was great to meet you, Kurt.”

“You too. Bye, Stacey.”

She didn’t reply; she just nuzzled into Cooper’s neck as he carried her to the door. Blaine walked with him, while Kurt got back to the dishes.

“Thanks again for getting her, B.”

“Hey, no problem. Kurt didn’t seem to mind, and she loved him.”

“What’s not to love, right? He’s great.”

Blaine glanced back to the kitchen to make sure Kurt couldn’t hear him; he wasn’t entirely sure why. He turned back to Cooper and sighed before he could stop himself.

“Yeah,” he breathed lightly, “he’s awesome. And Eliza’s gorgeous; I’m sure you’ll meet her at some point, but yeah, Kurt’s really cool. He’s just funny, and smart, and you should have tasted dinner – and I saw a couple of his drawings, he-”

“Mmm.”

Blaine frowned. He’d heard that ‘mmm’ before.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Coop, what are you-”

“Nothing, look I better get this one home-”

“Cooper-”

“I’m glad you like the new job, B, I’ll call you, okay, bye!”

Blaine wasn’t sure how Cooper managed to get away so fast with a floppy five-year-old clinging to him, but he was in the car in seconds. The frown stuck on his face as he watched him drive away, but as soon as he was back in the kitchen it was replaced by the same curious smile as before. He heard Kurt humming to himself as he washed up, and slipped in next to him to start drying. Kurt argued but Blaine insisted on helping. They thought about watching a film, but they spent so long discussing their favourites and their least favourites and then their favourite books, bands, songs and even colours that by the time they remembered to put a DVD in it was almost midnight.

Blaine tried to insist that he didn’t mind sleeping on the sofa, but Kurt wouldn’t hear of it. Whether they liked it or not, Blaine lived there now.

Fortunately, they both liked it very much.


	6. Chapter 6

It was easy to establish a routine despite Kurt’s erratic schedule. He felt like he was working constantly, but Blaine kept Eliza awake for when he got home so he could enjoy some time with her every day without him asking. He wasn’t as good a cook as Kurt, but he always made sure there was something for him to eat if he needed it, or something for him to throw together if he wanted. He kept the house together and made sure Eliza got enough food and sleep and he could change a diaper in eleven seconds flat, four times as fast as Kurt’s record time. Most importantly, he made her happy. She was as comfortable with Blaine as she was with her grandparents, almost as much as with Kurt. Kurt didn’t notice, but Blaine could tell she was just that little bit more peaceful when she knew her father was holding her.

Kurt was confused. He should have been stressed and exhausted and angry, but he wasn’t. He was flustered at a push, but not one-week-until-opening-night crazy. He had been letting abuse from anxious performers ricochet right off him, taking everything in his stride… surely he wasn’t that seasoned a professional? He didn’t need to be stressed; his work was basically done, but it was usually hard to be surrounded by that nervous, bubbling energy without getting caught up in it. Normally he would have shredded nails, lacklustre hair and a hurricane where his brain should be by now. It wasn’t until one Saturday morning that he realised what had been saving him from insanity.

The night before, he’d breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he opened the door. He heard Eliza squealing from her high chair and a smile immediately appeared on his face. He loved having that soft, happy voice to come home to. It was almost delicate, but he doubted it would stay that way for long, considering who she’d inherited everything else from. For the first time in a month, the house was messy. It wasn’t dirty, but there was books scattered everywhere, and he was pretty sure every cooking implement he owned was out on the counter.

“Kurt! You’re early!”

“Blaine, I-”

“No, no, sit down, play with Eliza or something; I’ll clear this up in a second-”

Kurt cracked up, putting a hand to his mouth as soon as he saw Blaine looking slightly hurt.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I just- what are you doing?”

“I’m cooking! Wow, I thought you of all people would recognise duck à l’orange when you saw it. You don’t need to lift a finger; just relax and take the pressure off and sit down, let me take care of everything.”

Kurt tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at the frenzied man running around his kitchen.

“Are you sure I can’t help? Do you even know what half of this stuff does?”

Blaine was determined to get Kurt to relax, even if he had to break his legs just to make him sit down. He ran over to the highchair, scooped Eliza out of it and plonked her in Kurt’s arms.

“There. She’s all you have to worry about right now. Leave everything to me.”

Kurt could think of nothing worse than leaving everything to someone else, but when he was clutching a smiling baby to his chest while someone else cooked for him, he guessed that Blaine taking care of dinner might not be the most awful thing in the world.

Half an hour later, he was sure he was boring Blaine. He should have been. He’d been bitching about work since he got in, particularly the leading lady, Tamara Vincentio. Her name, albeit a stage name, alone was enough to make him hate her, but she constantly second-guessed him. He’d been designing and tailoring for this company for almost three years, since before she joined, and he knew every minor detail about them. He’d deliberately made her costume snug, and he hadn’t heard the end of it all day.

“So, I’m this close to screaming at her, ‘it’s not presumptuousness, it’s observation!’ There are some actresses who drop a size before a show. They don’t eat, they get stressed and overwork themselves and they get skinnier, so I measure their costumes accordingly. It’s standard protocol, you know?”

Kurt couldn’t stop eating, but he couldn’t stop talking either. The food was surprisingly good, considering this was probably the most ambitious thing Blaine had ever cooked, and the way he was gawping up at him, his eyes sparkling as if it was the most riveting conversation he’d ever had, made it easier to keep rambling, even though he was just moaning about stupid, inconsequential crap. Blaine shook his head in disbelief over the idea of someone questioning Kurt’s judgment. 

“You’d think they’d trust you by now. I mean, it’s not like you could have given them a reason not to.”

Kurt decided not to mention the fact he once sewed through the side of his thumb and covered some rather expensive fabric in blood. That was an accident. When he decided to do something, it was always right in the end, even if it came under harsh scrutiny at first. Kurt swallowed the last mouthful of his dinner, mopping up the juice with a chunk of bread. He sat back, letting out a deep sigh.

“God, I must be boring you solid. How long have I been venting to you? More importantly, how have you managed not to tell me to shut up?”

Blaine sat up suddenly. He started to reach his hand towards Kurt’s before quickly placing it back on the table by his plate.

“What? Of course you’re not boring me; it sounds incredible. I don’t know how you handle all that pressure.”  
Kurt smiled, standing up to pick Eliza up again and hold her on his lap. He ran his pinkie in the juice on his plate before letting her suck on it. She gurgled appreciatively, grabbing onto his fingers with her clumsy hands. Kurt and Blaine simultaneously let out a breath of laughter.

“It’s worth it. I always get so close to quitting, then I’ll see someone try on their costume and smile, knowing they look great, and I just think, ‘Wow. I did that. I drew it, and I made it, and it’s perfect.’ I guess it’s like Eliza. Everything I make is my baby. That’s why I get so pissed off when somebody says it’s wrong. It’s not just a job. I’ve never been that kind of person. If I’m in, I’m all in. I put my heart into those weird clothes, just like I put my heart into her.”

Blaine smiled softly at Kurt and then down at the baby yawning on his knee.

“I guess it’s a good thing nobody’s going to say anything bad about her; except maybe that she sucks at hiding when she’s sleepy.”

“In all fairness,” Kurt lifted her up and kissed her cheek before she let her head fall against his collarbone. She nuzzled against his neck with her eyes closed. “I don’t think she was trying to hide it.”

***

It was weird waking up naturally. He couldn’t remember the last time his sleep hadn’t been interrupted by Eliza screaming. It was a disturbing mixture of heavenly and terrifying. Something had to be wrong. Kurt looked at the baby monitor, even though normally she was loud enough to wake him from her room, only to realise it was switched off. How did that happen? He turned it on without even thinking about it every single night before going to bed; it was as much a part of his routine as brushing his teeth and moisturising his hands. 

He sat up as if someone had pinched him and scrambled out of bed, pulling the covers to the floor and tripping over his slippers. He stumbled across the landing, panicking more and more the closer he got to Eliza’s room in silence. He felt his whole chest tightening as he got to her door. He paused before opening it. His palm was flat against the wood while his other hand curled around the handle. He took a shaky breath. He’d been too happy, things had been getting too easy and now something had to go wrong. That was just what happened. He had to hold on for a couple of seconds, just in case… just in case his worst nightmare had come true. He skin had turned to ice and he tried to hold onto the feeling of having a daughter while he still could. 

He twisted the handle slowly, poised to run to call 911, pushing gently until he could feel carpet between his toes. He darted towards the crib, only to find that it was empty.

Blaine.

Kurt nearly passed out with relief. He realised just how much tension had built up in his shoulders as it flooded out of him, and he had to grip onto the crib for support. His head dropped forward while tried to catch his breath, which he’d been holding by accident. A tear ran down his cheek and he wiped at it haphazardly with the back of his hand. At least after Rachel, there was still Eliza, but if she… no. He took a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out as he sighed, and straightened up, pushing himself away from the empty crib.

He padded gently down the stairs, still confused as to why he couldn’t hear anything. It was usually hard to shut Blaine up when he had the baby. As soon as he got to the living room, he had to clap his hand over his mouth to stop himself laughing or crying. He couldn’t believe what was on the sofa.

Blaine was slumped against the arm of the couch, his head nestled in the cushions, fast asleep with Eliza sitting up on his stomach. She was awake, her hands shoved in her mouth, smiling up at Kurt innocently with no clue that she’d almost given him a heart attack. He glanced at Blaine, whose snoring rivalled the baby’s, whose hair was flat on one side and springing out on the other, whose face was twitching slightly with worry. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he hadn’t fallen asleep properly because he was ready to tend to Eliza if she stirred.

Kurt knew one thing. He was adorable.

He smiled back at Eliza. Normally she’d make some noise of recognition, a gurgle or a laugh, but she seemed aware that someone was sleeping underneath her. She knew not to make a sound. She was gazing up at Kurt, her eyes wide, as if to say ‘Look, Daddy! Look at what I’m sitting on! Isn’t he great?’, but of course babies don’t think that. They certainly don’t convey it with their eyes. Kurt shook his head, telling himself he was crazy.

He swept over to the sofa, lifting Eliza away from him gently so Blaine wouldn’t feel the change in pressure. He held her as close as he could without squashing her and jogged into the kitchen quietly, whispering to her as he moved. He looked into her eyes, all the panic dissolving in his mind. 

“Oh, honey, if you had any idea… I thought…” he sighed, smiled, and rested his cheek on her head and closed his eyes. “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” 

She had the nerve to giggle at his anguish and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Laugh at your own father. Let’s get you some breakfast.”

He smoothly reached for a bottle a mixed some formula, managing to do everything one-handed while cradling Eliza against his chest as well as keeping quiet so as not to wake Blaine up, but the microwave beeped before he could stop it. It was followed by a creak and a loud thud, as Blaine shot up, lost his balance and rolled face first onto the floor. 

Kurt suppressed a laugh as a head bobbed up from behind the sofa, glancing around to check if anyone had seen him fall then blushing furiously as he spotted Kurt and Eliza staring at him, Kurt’s shoulder trembling as he held back a chuckle. He grabbed onto the coffee table and pushed himself up, ruffling his hair and smoothing his shirt down when it rode up over his stomach. Kurt flushed slightly at the sight of skin, skin he wasn’t used to seeing, and he switched his focus to Eliza who was burbling away in his arms as he fed her.

“Did I- well, obviously, I, um… how come you…”

Kurt still didn’t look up at him, but grinned as he stared at the baby.

“It’s Sunday. They don’t need me. I was just going to do eggs if you wanted some?”

“Oh, no, I was meant to do that-”

Kurt finally raised his eyes, narrowing them as he caught Blaine’s eye. Blaine bit his lip.

“What do you mean, you were meant to- you know you’re not my cook, right?”

“No, but you’re really busy at work, and I, uh-”

The penny dropped. That was why the house was so clean, that was why Blaine had been working himself to death in the kitchen, that was why he’d taken the baby downstairs to calm her down rather than wake him up – and why there were probably no batteries in the baby monitor – Blaine wasn’t just taking care of Eliza; he was trying to look after Kurt, too. Both of their mouths were hanging slightly open; Blaine’s because he was still half asleep and embarrassed, Kurt’s because he was overwhelmed that anyone would do that for him, let alone someone he’d known less than a month; someone who looked that nice when they’d just fallen off a sofa, confused and dishevelled and sleepy and… Kurt forgot what he’d been thinking about until he felt Eliza staring up at him. If any four-month-old could be judgmental, it made sense that it would be his. He was about to ask her what she was looking at, when there was an ‘Ow!’ from the living room. Kurt tried to be concerned but Blaine had lifted his shirt again to soak up the blood gushing from his nose. It was distracting.

“Oh, crap, I think I hit it on the floor when I fell, you know-”

“Right, um, here-”

Kurt was really flustered now as he grabbed a towel and tried not to look at Blaine, because that stomach was not. Going. Away.

_Stop it stop it stop it Kurt what are you doing stop looking at him just look at the baby hold onto the baby you pay him to look after you are thirty years old you can’t do this…_

“Um, Kurt?”

“No! I mean, what? Is it- are you okay?”

“I think so… I don’t think it’s broken or anything… I’ll just throw this in the wash now before it dries.”

He pulled his shirt over his head like it was nothing, and Kurt swallowed hard.

“No, let me, go find a clean shirt or something; I don’t want you to get cold-”

“What? Don’t be silly, this’ll only take a second. You’re not getting out of doing breakfast that easy,” he teased with a grin. Kurt could have sworn he was on the verge of winking.

He stood by, helpless, as Blaine’s toned torso was paraded in front of him. One second it was something out of a magazine, flat and smooth save for a few contours of definition, the next he was crouching by the washing machine until the smallest tummy formed, and even that almost made Kurt fall over. This part of his brain had been shut off for so long, since before Eliza was born.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex, and suddenly he was inches away from that. He bit his lip and rushed around the kitchen, putting Eliza in her high chair (God, she looked so damn sassy she may as well have been clicking at him in a Z formation) and ran to the fridge. He closed his eyes for a second and let the cold air cool his cheeks off, but suddenly he felt hands on his waist as Blaine squeezed past him to get to the sink. He jerked forward and whacked his hip on a cupboard.

“Oh, wow, are you okay? I’m sorry if I-”

Kurt didn’t notice the drop in Blaine’s tone when he flinched. He didn’t dare turn around, even though his hip was throbbing. He tried to concentrate on the fridge. 

“No! No, you didn’t, I’m fine. It’s fine. I just… I think I’m- we’re-” Kurt wanted to slap himself. Since when were they ‘we’? “We, you know, as a household, are out of eggs. There aren’t any eggs.”

“Well, don’t mind me; just need to rinse out what I can before I put it in the machine. Do you have anything that needs washing?”

Kurt swallowed again, hoping his heart would drop back into his chest instead of being lodged in his throat. He still didn’t look at Blaine.

“Yeah, I think I’ve, um, in my basket-”

“No problem. Just a second. Oh, and Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

Kurt’s voice was strangled and hoarse. Blaine laughed.

“The eggs are right in front of you.”

Kurt’s eyes landed on the box that was three inches away from his face and he let out a strained, slightly shrill laugh.

“Right,” he coughed, “silly me.”

Blaine ran upstairs to get the laundry, and Kurt took the box out of the fridge, closed the door and banged his head against it three times.

_What is wrong with you? You are someone’s father. Grow up._

He heard a shriek of laughter behind him and spun around to look at Eliza, who still had one hand stuffed in her mouth but the other one was banging the table of her highchair gleefully.

“Well, I’m glad someone finds this funny."

It was anything but funny. It was an awkward, inconvenient nightmare.


	7. Chapter 7

Eliza squeals. Kurt grins, knowing without looking that she’ll have food spilling out of her mouth. It’s both hilarious and infuriating trying to feed a baby who laughs at everything, but she’s in the hands of an expert. He turns around to chop up the peppers he’s just taken from the fridge, ready to throw them into the salad. He smiles at the dark head of hair across from him, sitting in front of the high chair. The hair is long and straight, draped loosely over a tanned shoulder. The figure is wearing a white linen dress and laughing; it flows around the kitchen, seeps into Kurt’s skin like a song, and he exhales deeply, sinking into that sound, nuzzling against it as if it had never left.

“She likes it! She’s chewing!”

“Rach, it’s just banana. All babies like bananas.”

“But Kurt, she’s chewing! It’s actual food and her jaw’s going up and down and she’s chewing! She’s a genius!”

Kurt laughs. It’s a relief to hear her voice; he can’t figure out why. It’s as if something’s been different, but he can’t remember what it is. The thought is unsettling, so he pushes it aside.

“Do you think you’ll want your own food any time soon? The salmon’s done.”

“Oh, right, sure, in a second-”

She ignores him and uses the spoon to catch the blob of mashed banana sliding down the baby’s chin. Kurt stifles a laugh as she stretches her mouth open and closed in time with Eliza unconsciously. She looks like an anchovy, but he knows he probably does it too so he’s in no position to laugh at her. Eliza’s captivated, staring at her mother with wide eyes and a grin which won’t close around the spoon properly.

“Yum, yum, banana…” Rachel can’t help elongating each syllable and giggling when Eliza lets another mouthful fall out and onto her hand. Kurt lays two plates on the table before swooping in to grab Eliza’s hand and suck the banana off. If he’d seen someone do that a couple of years ago he would have cringed (ugh, that’s just been in someone else’s mouth), but now it feels normal. He lets her fist close around his finger and pretends to bite it.

“Mmm, deeee-licious! Tastes like baby, my favourite!”

He makes ridiculous chomping noises, gnashing his teeth against the back of her hand. She finds the whole display thoroughly entertaining and screams with laughter. He leans forward to kiss her forehead, prying her fingers away from his and sits down opposite Rachel, smiling at his daughter and best friend. He feels relaxed until that thought comes back into his head. This is wrong. It’s different. He shrugs it off again, too happy to care.

“Somebody eating banana shouldn’t be this exciting, should it?”

Rachel laughs.

“I know; we’re those people now. We’re just another couple of parents, living our dreams through her, pouring all our energy into her because we no longer have our own lives to focus on. I can’t believe it only took five months to get so… domesticated. We’re so old.”

“I guess we need to start thinking about schools soon.”

“Oh God, Kurt, already? Can’t we just keep her here forever?”

He laughs.

“I know, I know, but we want to get on the right lists, at least start visiting places. It’s New York, the best ones are gonna fill up way in advance; they’re like restaurants.”

Rachel huffs out a breath, finally turning away from Eliza and picking up her fork. She rests an elbow on the table as she stabs at a wedge of tomato.

“I don’t even know where we’d start. The only schools I know are the fancy ones; I don’t want her to be surrounded by all those snobs.”

“Those snobs are your friends’ kids.”

“They’re my _colleagues’_ kids, and even the toddlers are so dramatic and pretentious…”

“Rach, did you ever meet two-year-old you? Admittedly, I only knew you from fourteen upwards, but from what I’ve heard you weren’t exactly mild-mannered-” 

She rolls her eyes at him.

“I just want her to know some normal children. Do you know anywhere, or do we just go straight to Google?”

“There’s Oakridge. Henry and Stacey go there, and I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

There’s a pause. He looks up. Rachel’s head is on one side and her forehead’s wrinkled.

“Who?”

That doubting feeling comes back. His stomach tightens and he frowns.

“Nobody. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

How do I know those names? 

Rachel shrugs and starts attacking the fish on her plate enthusiastically.

“Well, it’s not like we have to enrol her tonight;” she looks at her watch (that’s not her watch. She hates watches. ‘They’re ugly and they have more control over people than any machine should have’) and her eyes widen. “Oh crap, I’m late!”

‘Crap’? ‘Late’? Never words out of Rachel Berry’s mouth.

Kurt sits up.

“What for? Rachel, why didn’t you tell me you were going out?”

“I thought I did. I’m just going to Cooper’s.”

Cooper. Wait.

Rachel grabs the bicycle helmet that he hadn’t even realised was on the table.

She would rather spend a hundred dollars on a taxi than mess up her hair with a helmet.

“It’s cool; I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“No, Rachel, no – you don’t know Cooper,” he tries to ignore the cold feeling settling in his stomach, “you don’t cycle, you don’t say ‘cool’, you don’t wear a watch, you don’t… you-”

She smiles calmly at him and hops back to him to kiss him on the cheek.

“Don’t be silly. Gotta run!”

He stands up, knocking his knife on the table with a clang and not bothering to pick it up. Eliza isn’t laughing anymore.

“No, Rachel, come back! You can’t go again; we can’t lose you again! Stop!”

He tries to grab her arm on her way out, but somehow she slips out of his grasp. He tries again, calling her name over and over, but she doesn’t turn. She’s frozen, just ahead of him, her face hidden. He hears her shouting his name and he doesn’t understand why she can’t just turn around, until he realises that’s not her voice. It’s lower, rougher, panicking.

Kurt jerked into consciousness with the sound of Blaine’s voice floating above him, jostling his knee. He realised he was clinging to his hand desperately, managing to grip even though his fingers were slick with sweat. He heard another voice rambling alongside Blaine’s; it was his own.

“No, no, where is she? Why isn’t- why are you- you’re not-” Blaine tried to shush him. Kurt wanted to shush himself, but the words kept falling out. His shirt was sticking to his chest and his throat was tight. He’d obviously been shouting for a while, and his cheeks were wet with a mixture of sweat and tears. He looked up at Blaine. His eyes were pleading and scared and he whispered, “you’re not Rachel,” before snatching his hand away. Blaine pulled back for a second, worried he’d done something wrong, but he didn’t leave.

“I heard you… crying. You kept saying her name and shouting and I just- I wanted to help.”

He looked at his hands, wringing them together before he looked back at Kurt.

“Do you want me to- should I go? You just sounded so upset- I’ll go-”

Blaine started to stand up but Kurt’s hand reached out again before he could stop it.

“No-”

Blaine stood next to the bed, catching Kurt’s hand in both of his. He stroked it with his thumb, letting Kurt know he wouldn’t go if he didn’t want him to.

“What can I do? Let me do something.”

Kurt shook his head slowly. What could he do?

“I don’t know… Just don’t go. She was here and then she wasn’t, and it’s like it’s happened again, and-”

Blaine slid onto the bed next to him, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders, using his free hand to keep stroking Kurt’s as they clutched frantically at the sheets. He whispered into his hair, soft _‘I’m here’_ s and _'I’ve got you'_ s.

“I can’t lose you too, Blaine, not both of you in one night, I just can’t,” Blaine held him tighter, letting him know he was real and alive and there, “I can’t lose you-”

Blaine tucked Kurt’s head under his chin, pulling him close despite the sweaty clothes and cold skin. He soon warmed up as Blaine rocked him gently, rubbing his back in wide circles, whispering reassurances to him even though he probably couldn’t hear them.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kurt. You’re not gonna lose me.”

Kurt let go of the sheets and wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist instead, burying his face in his chest. He felt so solid and strong, not like the nervous man who rocked up for his interview or the guy who talked nonsense to a baby, but the friend who was there when he needed him, stroking his hair and his back, coiling around him until he felt safe.

The radio crackled to life next to Blaine’s ear at six, bringing them crashing back into consciousness. Blaine was somehow under the covers with Kurt, still holding him like he had been hours earlier. Kurt knew he should have felt embarrassed; Blaine probably should have as well, but they didn’t move for a few minutes. It wasn’t awkward. Kurt looked up at Blaine, whose hair was even messier now than usual, whose neck was stiff from being curled against Kurt all night, whose arms hadn’t left their posts around him for a second, and he smiled. Blaine smiled back, wiggling his toes next to Kurt’s ankle.

Kurt took a deep breath and swallowed. He didn’t have Rachel, but he had something.

“You stayed.”

“I wanted to.”

“Thank you.”

Blaine bent his head forward, burying his nose in Kurt’s hair and squeezing him gently. They heard a whimper coming from down the hall. They looked at each other for a second, before Blaine sat up.

“I’ll get her. You should get ready for work.”

Kurt shivered when Blaine stroked his back one last time and slid off the bed, leaving an empty space behind him instead of a warm chest rising and falling steadily and a heartbeat next to his jaw. He remembered to prop himself up on his hand just in time, rubbing a hand over his face as he watched Blaine leave with a shy smile back at him before he walked through the doorway. He blinked a couple of times at the open door before flopping back down onto the pillows.

Why did his arms have to feel exactly as nice as he thought they would?


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt had to applaud Finn’s effort. It was sweet of him to try and do something he would like, but he’d rather shop alone than drag Finn around the city while he pointed out every hot dog stand and asked if they could sit down. They ended up going for a quiet drink instead, but he couldn’t help being touched by Finn’s attempt to help.

“I don’t know… I thought maybe you’d miss stuff like that, you know, girly stuff- I mean, uh, you stuff, stuff you used to do with- with-”

Kurt put a hand on Finn’s forearm.

“Finn, it’s okay. It was a really sweet idea; shopping just isn’t your thing. Let’s face it; you wouldn’t expect me to watch a game with you. Anyway, shopping with Rachel was always a pain in the ass.”

Finn chuckled.

“Yeah. I remember I agreed to go with her once; she tried to get us matching sweaters with… bunnies on them? Reindeer? I don’t know, but I never went again.”

Kurt laughed.

“It took a lot of work to get her away from the animal clothes. To be fair, she pulled it off better than a lot of people could have. It might be disrespectful or something, but I really hope Eliza gets my fashion sense.”

Finn’s face lit up then. He adored his niece, and she was a much easier topic of conversation than Rachel.

“Oh, she totally will! I bet she’ll be some hot shot designer, or something else really smart, like a politician, except she’ll be really honest. Kurt, what if she became President? She could, like abolish anti-gays or something!”

Kurt grinned at his goofy big brother.

“Yep, low expectations, good idea. I always assume she’ll probably end up performing. She’s way more like Rachel than me.”

“No, she isn’t.”

Kurt frowned. Finn didn’t even have to think about it.

“Seriously? Those big brown eyes, the dark hair-”

“Kurt, there’s something about her, something that’s just you. She’s got your nose, for a start, and I know Rach would’ve wanted that, but… sometimes she giggles, and her nose wrinkles like yours does, and her whole face opens up, and it’s like… it’s like she’s still thinking, even when she’s screaming with laughter. She thinks more than I do.”

“Monkeys think more than you do.”

Finn laughed, knowing Kurt wasn’t used to compliments, even if they were given to him via the baby.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, that was… She’s four months old, Finn, she’s probably just thinking about the whole ‘solid food’ miracle. It doesn’t take a lot to keep her mind occupied.”

Finn shrugged and leaned back, taking a sip of his beer.

“I’m just saying, she looks wise. Rachel was… she was amazing, but nobody would’ve called her wise. That’s from you.”

Kurt smiled into his drink. He watched Finn for a minute, as he stared out of the window at everyone walking past. He still had that dopey expression, but he suddenly looked so much older. It was the kind of change that would have gone unnoticed if Kurt hadn’t stopped to look at him. He was still fit and he had all his hair, and his skin was pretty much wrinkle-free. Kurt realised that he wasn’t exactly older; he’d just grown up. He knew he probably looked like an adult now as well. He was an adult. He had a house, a job, a baby, the full set. He took a deep breath.

“Do you miss her?”

Finn looked at him and nodded.

“Of course. What happened was- it was awful. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair on you. I can’t imagine how much you…”

He paused, then closed his mouth and looked at the table. Kurt narrowed his eyes.

“Finn, you’re allowed to miss her too. You almost married her; she was your first love. It would be weird if you didn’t feel sad.”

“I know, and I do, but sometimes… I think I knew she wasn’t meant to be with me. She was too much- too special. She was so much better than me, you know?”

Kurt tried to argue, but Finn wouldn’t let him.

“No, I’m not putting myself down or anything. We were so different; we were just kids, and honestly, I think she always cared about you the most. More than me, anyway. You two went so well together. I mean, I know it was never romantic, obviously, but it didn’t have to be. I always thought you were kind of soul mates.”

He frowned at his bottle, rubbing the label with his thumb and running his other hand through his hair. He’d obviously wanted to say this for months.

“Finn-”

“I know, it sounds stupid, and people have probably said it to you before and it won’t mean any more coming from me, but she… she really loved you, okay? She loved you more than anyone, and I know she’d be proud of you. I’m proud of you. You’ll say it’s all Blaine, but you’re doing such a great job. You’ve got a healthy, happy little girl who loves you. Not a lot of people could have done what you’ve done, Kurt.”

Kurt felt his eyes burning, but he hardly noticed it anymore. Even after four months, something usually set him off every few days, and this was more than something. It was validation. It was reassurance that he wasn’t screwing it up, from someone whose opinion he valued more than he would admit. It was a reminder that she was his daughter just as much as she was Rachel’s. He leaned over to hug Finn, ignoring the awkward angle and clinging onto him.

“Thank you, Finn. I- thank you.”

Finn squeezed back, kissing him on the cheek. Ten years ago he still would have felt weird about this, but they’d both come a long way. They finally pulled apart, Finn adding the obligatory slap on the back as if there were any pretence left that they weren’t having an emotional moment.

“Do you, uh… want another beer-”

“It does mean more.”

“What?”

“It means plenty coming from you. You loved both of us. You know, you’re my brother, and hearing that from you, it’s nice. Thanks.”

They both knew it was more than nice. It was everything.

“Wow, is that the time?”

Neither of them was looking at a clock, but all those feelings had taken their toll on Finn. His emotions usually weren’t called on when he was fitting tires.

“Right, I should probably get back. I told Blaine I’d be home by now.”

“Oh, cool. Must be nice, having him to go home to.”

Kurt fumbled with the buttons on his jacket. How could such a throwaway comment make him blush, after the conversation they’d just had?

“S’okay. He’s good with the baby.”

“He seems really nice, though. You must’ve gotten to know him; what’s he like?”

_Gorgeous. Funny. Perfect._

“He’s nice. It’s nice to have him around. Eliza loves him.”

Finn raised his eyebrows.

“Huh. Eliza. Okay.”

“Finn-”

“No, no, I believe you. I’m not going to make any inappropriate comments. About your ‘nice’ employee. Who you live with. Who Eliza loves. Nope.”

“I hate you.”

Finn smirked.

“Love you too.”

***

Finn insisted on going home. He knew if he went back to Kurt’s he’d stay there for hours, fawning over the baby and getting sentimental about everything until the morning, and he had work the next day. They parted with another hug in a more convenient position, Kurt smiling as he watched Finn walk in the other direction. He still couldn’t believe he was the same kid who’d thrown him into dumpsters when they were kids. He definitely couldn’t believe he’d ever had a crush on him.

“I’m home! Sorry I’m late!” he called out as he opened the door, dropping his keys in the bowl.

“What?” the answer came from upstairs, amid splashing and Eliza giggling.

Kurt grinned.

“What are you doing up there?”

“Oh, I’m just, uh, giving the baby a bath. What are you doing home? You’re early!”

Kurt darted up the stairs. Bath time was too adorable to miss.

“Blaine, it’s seven thirty; I was meant to be home an hour ago-”

He opened the bathroom door to see Blaine, fully clothed, holding Eliza against his chest and booping her nose with a rubber duck. Her hair had been styled into a foamy Mohawk and she was clapping delightedly.

Blaine was, of course, in the bath with her. He dotted her cheek with kisses, making her gurgle with happiness as she grabbed at the duck, jumping when it squeaked.

Kurt burst out laughing as soon as he saw them.

“Why are you- what are you- what?”

“What? She kept splashing me so I was already soaked, and I, uh-”

“You got in the tub?”

“Well, if you say it like that it sounds weird-”

Kurt had to lean on the wall to stop himself from falling over. He could barely breathe.

“Like what? Like saying exactly what happened?”

“But I’m fully clothed-”

“You’re not making the point you think you’re making.”

Blaine’s eyes widened in panic.

“Wait, wait – what time did you say it was?”

“Seven thirty – wait, are we just going to bypass the fact that you’re fully dressed in the bathtub?”

“Oh, crap, I’m late.”

He held Eliza out towards Kurt, naked and wet and beaming, and he took her, still laughing, not caring that his clothes were soaked instantly. He rubbed their noses together, and he could see what Finn had been talking about. Her smile, the wrinkle in her nose, the thoughtfulness; it was all there. He froze, smiling at her while Blaine clambered out of the bath, getting water all over the floor.

“Are you okay?”

“She… she looks like me.”

“You sound surprised?”

Kurt snapped out of his daze, and turned to the man dripping on his bathroom floor. He burst out laughing again and handed him a towel.

“I’m surprised that this is what I leave her with every day. What are you late for?”

“Oh, just, I said I’d meet some friends. This guy’s going to be there; I’ve had kind of a thing with him – I don’t know. We have a lot of mutual friends and they’re really rooting for something to happen, but I’m not that into it.”

Kurt swallowed.

“Oh. You’re, uh- I didn’t- I didn’t know you were gay.”

Blaine scrubbed at his hair roughly with the towel, making it spring out in different directions. He became defensive almost immediately.

“I didn’t know it was a problem.”

“Problem? God, no- I mean, no. I am too.”

He sighed with relief.

“Oh, okay. Sorry. I just- I’ve been hassled for it before, you know? Wow, I didn’t mean to get so- sorry. Is it weird for me to talk about that stuff with you? It’s not, like, unprofessional or anything, right? If you’d rather I-”

“Blaine. Stop.”

Kurt nodded pointedly at Blaine’s clothes, which were clinging to him in rather inconvenient places. A puddle had formed around his feet. He laughed at himself.

“Oh, right. I should probably, uh-”

He peeled his shirt off (why did he have to keep doing that?) and wrung it out over the bath. He looked at Kurt, down to his soaking wet pants, and then back up to Kurt, who stopped staring at his stomach just long enough to take the hint. He grabbed another towel and wrapped it around Eliza, sweeping off to her room.

He’s naked he’s naked he’s naked-

Eliza was still grinning at him.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling about. You’re the one with no clothes on. Minx.”

She giggled and clapped. He rolled his eyes and smiled back at her. It was hard not to. He put her in her cutest onesie, the lion one.

“The Mohawk inspired me; a certain Puckfasa I used to know would be very proud. Have you had dinner?”

Her head flopped to one side.

_I can’t talk, Daddy. Ask the other one._

“Right,” he called out to Blaine, “has she eaten?”

“No, not yet. I didn’t realise what time it was-”

“No problem. I’ll take care of it.”

He jogged down the stairs with the furry bundle in his arms and heated up the mashed sweet potato he’d cooked the night before. He couldn’t wait until she got teeth and he could start feeding her new things. He knew teething was going to be horrible, but it would be worth it. He decided not to put her in the high chair. It was more fun to hold her. He’d just come to the realisation that she actually inherited some stuff from him; he wasn’t in the mood to put her down. 

They settled down on the sofa and Kurt flicked on the television. He didn’t really pay much attention to what was on; something with a laughter track and predictable jokes that would be easy to ignore. He folded his legs under him and flew a spoonful of food into Eliza’s mouth. He left the food on the coffee table for a minute, lifting her up over his head. He blew a raspberry against her stomach and she squirmed with joy.

He brought her back down and just held her for a moment, feeling her chest rise and fall, letting her brown eyes lock with his blue ones. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Their noses wrinkled. She was his.

He heard a throat clear in the doorway.

“Oh.”

“What? Too much? I haven’t really, you know, in a while-”

Kurt had never seen him like this. He usually had the scruffy look going for him, polo shirts and jeans, but now he was in dark trousers, a fitted, electric blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a waistcoat, polished shoes, just enough product in his hair to give it some shine and define the curls, clean shaven… ‘Oh’ was pretty much all Kurt could come up with.

“Okay, be fair. You’re a designer. I’m just a civilian. We can’t all dress like you – well, how you normally dress.”

Kurt looked down and realised he was still damp, with a splodge of sweet potato on his shoulder (somehow) and had a sneaking suspicion his face wouldn’t be looking too great after a day out with Finn making him cry. He looked at Blaine, who was smiling at him nervously anyway.

“No, Blaine, you look… good. Really good.”

Blaine exhaled heavily, puffing his cheeks out. It should have looked silly. It looked adorable.

“Thank God. I mean, they’re mostly just friends from school, but they’re all gonna think I- no. It doesn’t matter.” Kurt frowned a little, still confused that someone like Blaine could doubt himself so much. He shook it off. He obviously didn’t have time to dissect it right now. “It’s just Seb that’s going to be difficult.”

“That’s the guy?”

“Yeah. Sebastian. The guys mean well, but I think it’s kind of a ‘they’re both gay so let’s set them up’ situation. We’ve hung out a few times but he’s a little too much for me.”

“I find that hard to believe-“

“What?”

“Nothing. Hey, you don’t want to keep them waiting. You should go.”

Blaine shook his head, trying to psych himself up.

“Oh, right, yeah. You’re sure I look okay?”

Kurt forced a smile.

“Yep. Trust me. You look great. Go.”

Blaine grinned at Kurt, ran over to give Eliza a kiss in the bushy mane covering her head and a ‘night, sweetheart’, checked for his phone and wallet, grabbed his keys from the bowl and left.

Kurt took a deep breath, staring into the space where Blaine had been, still smelling traces of cinnamon mixed with the vanilla from the bath. He looked down at the baby, whose eyebrows were raised at him.

“Don’t.”

She giggled at him. He shifted on the couch, bringing his knees up so he could rest Eliza on them. He grabbed the food from the table and fed her a mouthful before she could learn to talk just to mock him. With her being so much like him, he wouldn’t put it past her.

She kept staring up at him, eyes wide and knowing.

“Stop that, Lizzie. Nobody thinks you’re clever.”

She laughed, orange flecks flying out of her mouth.

“Fine, Finn does, but you should learn not to take that too seriously. He’s a messy eater too.”

He scooped another spoonful into her mouth, miming chewing movements so she wouldn’t forget what she was meant to be doing.

“I need to stop talking to you. You’re going to give me bad ideas. I don’t like him. He’s here for you.”

She seem unconvinced, mulling it over as she chewed.

“I’m just the boring old guy he works for, remember? He’s young and energetic and he goes out with his friends… looking like that… and here I am feeding sweet potato to a lion. Do you see my problem?”

Her mouth hung open and an orange blob slid down her chin. He caught it with the spoon.

“No, of course not. You’ve got your own stuff to deal with right now. Chewing’s tricky; I shouldn’t add to that burden. Come on, eat up so you can go to sleep.”


	9. Chapter 9

Burglars. It had to be burglars.

Really, really bad ones.

Kurt kept blinking, hoping his vision would become less blurred as he stumbled his way down the stairs, brandishing a rolled-up Vogue. He didn’t know what he was planning on doing with it when he apprehended the bandits, but it felt better than facing them empty-handed.

The noises continued on the other side of the front door, scrabbling and scratching and heavy breathing, and just as Kurt flicked the light switch he made out a silhouette in the frosted glass.

“Just… go… in the thing…”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. He knew that voice.

There was a groan of exasperation and the figure leaned heavily against the door and dropped out of sight. Kurt yanked the door open and Blaine, having giving up on the lock and decided to sleep on the front step instead, fell flat on his back, his head landing on Kurt’s foot. He shielded his eyes from the light glaring down on him and pushed himself up with one hand. Kurt automatically bent down to help him up, but he shook him off, reaching up to drop his keys on the table. It was funny how some parts of a routine stuck in your muscles no matter what state you were in.

“No, no, go to bed, I’m gonna sleep outside. I can’t open the door.”

He started to crawl back outside, reaching blindly for the door to pull it closed behind him, but Kurt fought back a laugh and hauled him in. He lost his balance and landed in a heap on the floor, looked up at him for a second, then started cackling. He flopped onto his side on the doormat, wheezing and spluttering; Kurt gave up trying to hold it in and burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Blaine, how much did you have?”

He shifted towards Kurt, wrapping himself around his legs and rubbing his cheek on a knee.

“I don’t know. I had some beers, and some really small glasses of a thing and then some more beers and… another beer. I think I’m like… eighty per cent beer. Do I smell like beer?”

He blinked at Kurt pleadingly. Kurt plucked his feet free from Blaine’s grasp and knelt beside him, wrapping a hand around his waist. They’d stopped laughing without realising. Kurt slid a hand under Blaine’s waist, scooping him off the floor and propping him up.

“No. You smell…” like tequila, like lime wedges, like kissing… “You smell fine, Blaine. I think we better get you some coffee.”

Blaine slumped back against his chest, letting his head fall on Kurt’s collar bone. Every fibre of Kurt’s being wanted to stay at the foot of the stairs with this warm body resting on his, the steady rhythm of his breathing already feeling so familiar, the weight anchoring him to the spot and fitting perfectly next to him until he heard snoring. He laughed and pushed Blaine up until he fell too far forward; Kurt caught him with a firm hand on his stomach before he smacked into the floor.

_Don’t think about his stomach. That stomach you’re touching. The flat, warm, toned-yet-somehow-a-little-bit-soft stomach your hand is pressed firmly against. Definitely don’t think about that one._

Blaine jolted awake and grabbed at Kurt’s arm.

“Kurt, shhhh, the baby, she’s gonna wake up-” His whisper ended up being more of a shout. Kurt gradually realised he probably wasn’t much of a drinker.

Kurt hauled Blaine to his feet only to have him collapse against him in giggles, clinging to Kurt’s waist and burying his face in his chest. Kurt held his hands up in surprise for a second but dropped them to catch Blaine as he started sliding down, unable to get a decent grip on his torso. Any further down would be a very bad idea. He awkwardly held Blaine up, ducking under his arm so he could drag him into the kitchen. 

“I’ll check on her after I’ve dealt with you. I think she would understand that you need a drink-”

Blaine emitted a clumsy cheer, throwing his fists in the air.

“Yes! Drink!”

Kurt tried to shush him between laughs.

“Coffee. Water. Something to rehydrate you.”

“Can I have chocolate milk?”

“Can you promise me you won’t throw it up?”

Blaine stopped walking and straightened up. He held onto Kurt’s arm and looked straight into his eyes, taking deep breaths and going to a lot of effort to prove that he could stand pretty much by himself. He frowned in concentration, opened his mouth to explain how sober he was then thought better of it and shook his head gravely. Kurt bit his lip but couldn’t help snorting at his seriousness.

“Water it is. Why don’t you sit down;” he lowered Blaine onto the couch, “I’ll bring it over.”

Blaine kicked his shoes off and curled up into a ball in the corner of the sofa, humming to himself contentedly while Kurt ran to get him a glass. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep talking. If Eliza was going to wake up she would’ve done it by now.

“I take it you guys had fun?”

Blaine stopped humming.

“Uh… s’okay.”

“Only okay? Did something happen?” He perched on the arm of the sofa and handed Blaine a drink. “Is that why you’re so… so…”

“Fucked? I’m fucked. Fuckededy fucked.” He started laughing again, leaning his head on Kurt’s hip, then his laughter started to turn into groans. “Oh, Kuuurrrrrt, why?”

Kurt tentatively rubbed his shoulder, resisting the urge to stroke his hair out of his eyes. Blaine let his face fall onto his palm.

“Why what? What happened?”

“Why did they have to invite him? We were fine, and then he walks in in his suit all smirky and tall and acting like he owns the place, like he owns me, and then he-” Blaine let out another moan of annoyance.

“Then he what?”

Blaine rubbed a hand over his face and took a sip of water.

“Before I left, he… he said I was cheating on him.”

Kurt took his hand away instinctively.

“Oh. I didn’t think you were really-”

“We’re not! That’s the whole- how could I even, when we’re not, I mean we have –not like, you know, but you can’t, when you’re not even-”

Kurt decided not to point out the fact that Blaine wasn’t really making any sense. He knew what he meant. 

“Why would he think that anyway? I mean, granted I’ve never seen you with him, but I’ve never seen you with anyone else either; who does he think you-”

Blaine pulled his feet in underneath him, shrank back into the cushions and with his head bowed, looked sheepishly up at Kurt. In that second, he didn’t look drunk or sleepy or like he was going to fall over. He looked embarrassed. The penny dropped.

“Oh. I… Oh.”

_Shit. His boyfriend, or whatever he is, thinks he’s sleeping with me, and he’s had to drink himself into a stupor to try and wipe it out. The very idea must be mortifying._

“God, it’s so stupid. I mean, one look at you and he’d know there was nothing going on.”

Kurt took a sharp breath in. He knew it was the truth, but it stung. He held his tongue and let Blaine keep rambling, knowing he probably couldn’t stop him if he tried.

“-because you’re so angular and your nose is so nice and you’re so talented– I’ve seen it, you know, the stuff that wasn’t for work. I probably shouldn’t have looked but they were just there, dresses and hats and boots and it’s amazing, Kurt, you’re already so important and you’re probably gonna keep going, keep moving on and up and doing bigger and better things, and then there’s me. I’m just some idiot who looks after your kid.”

Kurt could feel his heart swelling at the thought of Blaine thinking he was talented, then shattering when he put himself down. He saw his hand had somehow made its way back onto Blaine’s shoulder without his permission and was stroking small circles onto his back.

“Blaine, what are you talking about? You’re-”

“I know; I’m boring. That’s what bugged me about the whole stupid thing; I don’t give a fuck about what he thinks, but they were all ready for this big night out, and I made myself go because I thought maybe – maybe I could be like that. I don’t mean like him; he’s an asshole, but going out to all those fancy clubs in the city, with tonnes of cool people everywhere, I thought I could be one of them, one of your people, all dressed up and interesting, but I hated it. I felt so out of place. All I could think about was coming home, cooking dinner, giving Lizzie a bath, being here with you, because that’s what makes me happy. I just like being here. I love being part of this weird little family.” 

“But Blaine-”

“I just thought for one night I could be the kind of guy who deserved you. Look how it turned out. God, I’m so stupid.”

Blaine downed the water, put the empty glass on the floor and hid his face in his hands. 

Kurt didn’t know what to do. He wanted to tell Blaine that he was anything but boring, that if he could spend every day with him and the baby he would, that seeing the two of them together, just on the sofa or having dinner or even fully clothed in the bath always made him happy and that if anything he’d thought Blaine was way out of his league. 

He wanted to pull him close and stroke his hair and tell him he liked him; he wanted to say he liked that other guy thinking they were together, he wanted them to be together, that waking up with Blaine’s arms wrapped around him was the first time he’d felt safe since the baby was born, then maybe they would kiss and smile at each other and kiss some more and then – then he’d wake up the next morning, oblivious to the whole thing.

Kurt flashed back to his freshman year of college, holding a drunken Rachel’s hair back as she threw up and cried to him about how she wasn’t good enough, how she was going to fail all of her classes, she was going to die alone and unsuccessful, and he remembered that nothing he said made any difference. Drunk people don’t listen, and their minds can’t be changed. And making out with them is rarely a good idea. He didn’t have any experience of this exact situation, but he was pretty sure it was an even worse idea when the drunk person was your live-in nanny. All he could do now was get him to bed and make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.

“Listen to me.” He heaved Blaine off the sofa and started walking him upstairs. He felt Blaine’s hand tracing lightly over his stomach through his t-shirt, occasionally pulling on the fabric when he lost his balance. He tried to keep his breathing steady. “Everything you just said is stupid, but I know you won’t believe me if I tell you that now. You’re gonna go to bed and I’m going to put a trash can next to it in case you need to throw up. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Blaine collapsed on the bed, still dressed, on top of the covers, and passed out as soon as he was horizontal. He made soft mumbling noises, and he still looked like he was frowning. Kurt crouched next to him and pushed his hair back with his thumb. He hummed out ‘Hmmm, Kurt’ under his breath, just loudly enough for him to hear. Kurt smiled.

“You’re not just some idiot, Blaine. I promise.”

He let himself watch Blaine sleep for another minute before wandering into Eliza’s room and sitting cross-legged in front of her crib. She was lying on her back, still in the lion pyjamas, eyes wide open and staring at the duck mobile over her head. It didn’t go with the room, but it was adorable. She’d had the decency to keep quiet and let them have a moment, albeit one Blaine was going to forget. Kurt reached through the bars of the crib and tickled her hand with his finger. She grasped his fingertip firmly in her fist.

“Okay, I need your opinion. He called me angular. If you think ‘angular’ means he likes me, just stare at me and look unimpressed.”

He gave her a few seconds to change her expression in case she disagreed. She stared at him. He grinned.

“You’re the best daughter a guy could ask for; did you know that?”

She yawned and he took it as a yes.

“I just wish he… Why does he think-”

She yawned again, more loudly, but it could have been a sigh of exasperation. It must be exhausting having to listen to him sometimes. He took the hint and blew her a kiss goodnight before wandering back to bed.

***

Kurt absent-mindedly kissed Eliza on the head as he turned the page of the paper. He knew it was bad to hold her constantly, that she needed to get used to being left in her highchair sometimes or she’d get too needy, but it was Sunday morning and he couldn’t think of anything better than sipping coffee and calmly flicking through the paper with a little girl in his arms and her head resting on his collarbone. He read the occasional article to her, pointing at the words on the off chance she was a child prodigy and would start reading along with him. She didn’t. He tickled under her chin and blew a raspberry on her cheek and she giggled, bubbles forming on her lips and he kissed her again.

He heard a series of thuds and groans coming down the stairs.

“I think Blaine’s awake.”

Eliza clapped. Blaine groaned again. He emerged through the doorway, rubbing his hands over his puffy, red eyes and down his pale face, pulling his skin out of recognition. There was already a thin layer of stubble dusting his jaw. He’d changed into sweatpants and a grey t-shirt, giving the illusion that he hadn’t slept in the clothes he went out in. He looked like a half-dead bag of scruff, in a sickly-but-cute, exposed hipbones sort of way.

“Ohhhh…”

Kurt swallowed a laugh.

“Sleep well?”

“Coffee first. Please. Coffee. Now.”

Kurt obliged, reaching into the cupboard for an enormous mug and starting a fresh pot. He wasn’t sure whether or not to address last night’s bizarre confession.

“So, how was last night?”

“I don’t know. There may have been tequila. I don’t even remember getting home.”

Of course he didn’t remember. He was hammered.

“Lucky you.”

Blaine’s eyes widened.

“Oh, shit. Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t worry about it; I was just glad you weren’t trying to murder us.”

“Oh, God, Kurt, I’m so sorry… Did I throw up anywhere? Did I break anything? How bad was I?”

“Not to my knowledge, no, and not bad at all. You were actually kind of adorable.”

Blaine frowned. His shoulders tensed up.

“Did I… Did I say anything?”

_You said I’m angular you said you like my nose you said my work is good you said you wanted to be someone who deserved me and you’re already that person and-_

Kurt shrugged.

“Not much.” He wanted to kick himself. He could’ve said something and something could’ve happened but now he’d missed his chance. He’d have to keep pretending Blaine hadn’t said anything. “There was something about Sebastian, I think. You’d had a fight, hence all the drinking.”

“Sebast- wait.” Kurt could see the wheels turning in Blaine’s head, trying to connect the few flashes of the night before. “He said I- and you-”

Kurt poured him some coffee, trying not to let his hands shake as he handed it to him. Maybe he’d remember on his own. Blaine gave up on piecing it together and settled for damage limitation.

“I swear I never drink, okay? I mean, that’s why I was probably talking out of my ass. I’m- I’m really sorry for whatever I did. Please, please ignore it.”

Kurt’s heart dropped into his shoes. He plastered a smile on that he hoped would come off as breezy.

“Hey, of course. You pretty much just came in and went to bed. I swear it’s fine-”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m like that. It’s one thing for my friends from school to see me falling on my face; they’ve seen me do a lot worse, but you, you know…” He blushed. “You’re… my boss. You trust me with her,” he nodded to Eliza, “and I know that’s not easy, and I need you to know you still can. It won’t happen again.”

Kurt smiled into his coffee. He wouldn’t mind Blaine nuzzling against him again and telling him how talented he was. He could probably just about endure it.

“I know, Blaine. This doesn’t change anything. I’m not about to throw you out or hate you forever because you had too much to drink. We’re okay.”

Blaine smiled and sighed with relief.

“Good. Thanks. Sorry again.”

Blaine raised his cup to his lips, about to take a gulp, when the smell hit his nostrils. Kurt hadn’t seen anyone look that queasy since Rachel’s first trimester.

“Oh, God…”

Blaine pushed his cup back into Kurt’s hand and ran for the stairs, almost tripping over his pants. Kurt flicked some music on so he wouldn’t have to hear the sound of him vomiting.

Kurt looked at Eliza. Her arm was just hanging limply at her side, but it almost looked like it was on her hip.

“I swear I usually have much better taste than this.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Kurt, would you keep still for five minutes?”

Kurt turned to face Leroy, slightly out of breath.

“I just wanted to make sure you guys don’t have to do anything; I don’t want to put you out-”

Leroy put a steady hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“You couldn’t put us out if you tried. You know we’ll take any chance we can get to babysit.” He turned to Hiram, who was busy cooing over Eliza and kissing her cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

“What?” He’d barely been paying attention to anything but his granddaughter since he arrived. He pulled the adults back into focus. “Oh, of course, we’re happy to help. What’s so urgent, anyway? I thought you didn’t even finish work for another hour.”

Kurt smiled to himself.

“I took the afternoon off. It’s kind of a special occasion.”

Leroy’s face lit up. He was glad Kurt was making time for himself; he wanted him to be happy, and it helped that they got to look after the baby.

“Oh, really? Got a hot date?”

“No!” Kurt snapped too quickly. “I mean, just going out for the evening. I thought we both needed a night off.”

Leroy tilted his head and Hiram’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“We? So you’re going out with Blaine?”

Leroy put a hand on Hiram’s forearm.

“Honey, if Blaine wasn’t going out too don’t you think he’d be the one staying with Lizzie?”

Hiram tried not to show his surprise, but he was clearly taken aback.

“Right, right, I just… I thought maybe he was busy with friends. I didn’t realise you two were-”

Kurt shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“We’re not- we’re friends. It’d be weird if we weren’t friends; we live together. If I trust him enough to look after Lizzie, doesn’t it make sense that we get along? I just thought we could do something together that didn’t revolve around the baby; that doesn’t mean we’re going out. We’re just… going out.”

His arguments were a little too hurried and a lot too practised. He’d made them in his mind a hundred times, trying to convince himself that he didn’t need to feel bad about liking Blaine, that he was just a friend. He loved things the way they were now, and if anything went wrong it would be awkward to say the least.

Leroy suppressed a smirk.

“Well, Kurt, that makes you just about the nicest boss ever. Where is he anyway?”

“He’s out. I actually made sure he’d be out getting groceries when you guys got here.”

“And why was that?”

Kurt blushed.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Leroy couldn’t help grinning.

“Uh-huh. Well, we’ve all arranged special surprise nights out for friends at one point or other, haven’t we?”

Hiram didn’t say anything. He forced a smile before focusing on the baby again. Kurt frowned. He felt an urge to defend himself, to tell Hiram that even though of course it wasn’t like that, he could date who he wanted and that it was none of his business, but he knew that would make everything worse. The last thing he wanted now was to get into a bad mood. He smiled politely and changed subject.

“Anyway, you’ve got my number and Blaine’s is on the fridge if you can’t get hold of me, which is very unlikely.” He held Eliza’s hand absent-mindedly, enveloping it inside his. “Would you mind feeding her while I finish getting ready?”

Leroy gave him a nudge.

“You already look fine to me, but if you want to go to any more effort, be our guest.”

Kurt huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes, simultaneously trying to reciprocate Leroy’s light tone, make it clear that nothing was going on, and show Hiram that even if it was, he had no say in it. Light-hearted defiance was not an easy emotion to capture.

“I’ll only be a second.”

He took a couple of deep breaths in front of the mirror, still trying to perfect his hair even though he’d been ready for an hour. He tried to ignore the hushed voices downstairs. He’d known they’d be weird about this – Hiram more than Leroy – but he ignored it. Tonight wasn’t about them. It was about Blaine.

He rushed downstairs as soon as he heard a key in the door. He opened it, knowing Blaine would be weighed down with bags (he always bought more than he could carry) and greeted him with a bright smile and a higher-pitched than normal ‘Hey!’

Blaine froze in the doorway. He swallowed as he took Kurt in – violet shirt, black form-fitting trousers and jacket, looking effortlessly chic although Blaine suspected he’d selected his outfit carefully – and almost dropped the bags on the floor. He opened his mouth and nothing but ‘oh’ fell out. Kurt grinned.

“Do you need me to take a couple of those?”

“Huh, um,” he coughed, “yeah. Yeah, thanks, I- are you- you look, uh-”

“Thanks,” Kurt lifted two bags from the pile in Blaine’s arms and headed to the kitchen. “You remember Hiram and Leroy?”

The two men in the kitchen looked tense. They’d obviously been in a deep discussion of the Kurt and Blaine situation, and it looked like Leroy had won. He was determined to stay cheerful, smiling as he bounced the baby in his arms. Hiram’s arms were folded and didn’t move to shake Blaine’s hand. Despite the heavy paper bags restricting his movement, Blaine wiggled his fingers in an awkward attempt at a wave. Leroy took Eliza’s hand in his and made her wave hello to him, while Hiram offered a solemn nod. 

“Blaine.”

There were a thousand niggling thoughts flitting through Kurt’s mind – how dare Hiram be so rude, thank God for Leroy being such a sweetheart, what if he was doing something to drive a wedge between them, hadn’t they already lost enough… but they fizzled out of his brain when Blaine finally put the bags down on the counter and turned around to face Kurt, having to swallow again when he noticed the clear flex of his bicep through his shirt.

“So, are you here for dinner? Kurt didn’t mention-”

“They’re babysitting.”

Blaine frowned. His brain was still whirring from the sight of Kurt dressed… like that. He always looked good, but now he was in a different mode. This wasn’t just him being naturally stylish. He was out to impress. _He’s got a date. He must have a date._

“Are you going out?”

Kurt held in a laugh.

“Yes. And so are you.”

Blaine’s eyes grew wider.

“What? Where to? Who with? Oh God, I need to change. I don’t have anything-” I don’t have anything good enough. I’m not fit to be introduced to your world. I’ve tried.

“Woah, Blaine; it’s fine.” Kurt reached out about to stroke his arm and reassure him, but he pulled away at the last second. It felt weird touching him in front of Hiram and Leroy, although he really just wanted to pull him into a hug and stop him looking so scared. “It’s a surprise, and I’m sure you’ll look great. Just pick something comfortable – smart casual.”

He didn’t move for a few seconds, still trying to process the fact that Kurt wasn’t working from home this evening, that he couldn’t just curl up on the sofa across from him and watch a movie or read a book, that he was about to be surrounded by people more interesting than him and a whole world he didn’t know about, but something about the way Kurt was smiling at him made it seem less scary. Kurt knew him, probably better than he let on, and he wouldn’t make him do anything he wouldn’t like. He quickly squashed the idea that maybe Kurt had dressed up for his benefit; still, he had to look good if he was going to be in public next to that. He mumbled out a ‘right, okay, hold on’ before rushing up the stairs, smiling at Eliza then Kurt on his way out.

Kurt turned back to Hiram and Leroy, who were staring at him silently. Leroy was resisting a temptation to probe him for details, getting the idea that Hiram was ready to start trouble.

“He looks terrified. Has he been outside before?”

Kurt looked back to the doorway Blaine has just run through then lifted the baby out of Leroy’s arms, kissing her on the cheek.

“You just saw him come back from the store.”

“But he-”

Leroy cut Hiram off.

“I think he’s probably just surprised. I don’t think he was expecting to come home to… well, this,” he nodded at Kurt. “Poor kid didn’t stand a chance.”

“Shut up- I mean, thanks. But he’s just kind of… I don’t really know. He just needs a boost. I kind of owe it to him.” I owe him a lot, actually. I owe him everything.

They stuck to small talk as they waited for Blaine, scared to rock the boat. Kurt told them how he was getting treated like a slave at work and it was wearing him down, but at least he had Eliza to come home to – Leroy bit his tongue to stop himself from pointing out that she wasn’t all he was coming home to – and they talked about the joys and pitfalls of retirement (“we’re finally free to have fun, but we’re too old to do anything; c’est la vie!”). They asked after Burt and Carole, even Finn, and Kurt’s answers were thin and meandering as he got more and more jumpy in anticipation. Leroy squeezed Hiram’s knee, don’t say anything, and they both kept talking even though Kurt had pretty much checked out of the conversation. 

Eventually Blaine reappeared, wearing a light grey suit with a white shirt; light enough to keep cool, smart enough to fit in wherever they were going. He considered a tie but thought better of it, as he was already having trouble controlling his breathing. The jacket defined his shoulders and hugged his waist (and the pants may have slightly accentuated his ass, completely by accident, of course). He looked sheepish as he edged into the living room. It would have been so much easier if it had just been him and Kurt, but he figured it would be soon enough - until they got to wherever they were going, some expensive bar full of theatre people, where he’d be out of his depth. He resigned himself to the fact that most of this evening could easily be a nightmare, but at least he’d have some time with Kurt.

Kurt jumped to his feet as soon as he saw Blaine, eyes darting to the roll of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed again at the sight of Kurt. They paused, standing and staring at each other until they simultaneously remembered that they weren’t alone, and Kurt babbled a quick goodbye at Hiram and Leroy, bobbed down to kiss Eliza’s temple, and grabbed a jacket as he ushered Blaine outside.

Getting outside was a relief. It was still light and the warm city air was punctuated by a smooth summer breeze. A taxi was just pulling up to the curb. Kurt took a deep breath in through his nose and looked at Blaine.

“Come on; we’re going to be late.”

Before Blaine could apologise for the delay or ask where they were going, Kurt had placed a hand on the small of his back, casually ushering him toward the car. He decided not to argue; he realised he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a cab, and he let himself enjoy it, as long as Kurt was paying. He risked a glance at him, eyebrows raised, hoping for some answers.

“First of all, you don’t need to worry. I’m not going to force you to put up with a bunch of theatre people. There’s a reason you haven’t met them; they’re all pretty much insufferable outside of work. A lot of them are worse inside it. You’ll see them, but talking will be discouraged. Frowned upon, even.”

Something lit up in Blaine’s eyes as it clicked into place.

“No way.”

“What way?”

“You’re taking me to the show?”

Kurt groaned. He’d never been good at keeping secrets.

“Don’t get too excited; I get free tickets. To be honest, they’ll give most people free tickets at this point. It doesn’t look like it’s going to have a long run-”

Blaine ignored his self-deprecation.

“You’re taking me to see your work? I get to see those costumes for real, sitting next to the guy who made them?”  
Kurt was almost dumbfounded by Blaine’s admiration.

“Well… yeah, I guess. Yes.”

Blaine wound the window down, and for a second Kurt thought he was going to stick his head outside, letting his tongue flop out of his mouth into the breeze. He was almost disappointed when he didn’t. He leaned into the flow of air, taking a deep breath, before turning back to Kurt.

“You sound surprised. I thought that was supposed to be me.”

Kurt tried to piece a proper sentence together.

“Well, I just- nobody really- everyone’s usually excited to see the girl, she’s supposed to be the next big- I-”

Blaine grinned.

“Nah, I’ve always found the behind the scenes stuff more interesting. Performers kinda piss me off-”

His jaw dropped. He wanted to punch himself in the face. He started shaking his head.

“Oh, Kurt, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Kurt laughed, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“It’s fine, Blaine; I know you didn’t mean her, but if you did you wouldn’t be the first. She pissed everyone off. She could piss me off like nobody else, but somehow it worked for us. We kept each other on our toes. Her dads try to act like she was this perfect angel, and I understand why, but I think that’s worse. I’d rather be honest about her; I know she’d do the same for me. There was so much about her that I adored, really: she was loyal and funny and so determined, so fierce that nothing could stop her, but… God, she could be grating. Come on, she had to resort to having a baby with me. Nobody else could put up with her.”

Blaine considered putting a hand on his arm, his leg, somewhere, but couldn’t quite find the courage. He ducked his head slightly to catch Kurt’s eye.

“I’m sure there were other reasons, Kurt.”

Kurt looked at him and smiled. He exhaled, something between a sigh and a laugh, then turned to look out of the window.

“It’s so beautiful like this; when the shadows are longer and there are streaks of gold everywhere. Even though you can’t see every single thing from in here, it’s like it all hits you at once. I like walking, but sometimes it’s more fun when it blurs together. It washes over you.”

He turned back to Blaine. He wasn’t saying anything, just listening to Kurt speak, watching the sunlight flicker across his face, enjoying the amazement in his eyes as he gazed at the city. He hummed in agreement, and Kurt felt a blush creeping up his jaw.

“Sorry; I can get sentimental about this place. It’s a summer thing. Makes me nostalgic.”

Blaine kept smiling.

“Don’t apologise. It’s nice. I forget to appreciate this place until someone else talks about it. This is going to sound really cheesy, but when you hear somebody talk about something they love, it’s like you get to see through their eyes. You see it for the first time.”

The realisation that he, Kurt, the once-closeted, bullied kid in Lima, Ohio, could show someone a different way of seeing New York, that he had his own version of New York, hit him out of nowhere and sent a shiver up his spine. He sat in silence, processing it, and by the time it had sunk in they’d reached the theatre. It wasn’t the Gershwin, it wasn’t even Broadway, but it had its own charm. He slid out and held the door open for Blaine, closing it and paying the driver, tipping more generously than he needed to. 

He wanted to scream with excitement every time he snuck past one of the ushers with a sly nod, a ‘Hey, Steve!’ and a wink. It was always kind of fun strolling into a theatre like it was nothing, everyone knowing and respecting him as a part of it all, but now that he had someone to enjoy it with it was almost too much to bear. In those moments, it didn’t matter that he and Blaine were there as ‘just friends’ because that was so much fun by itself. Everyone else there would have a bone to pick with him, some stupid question about a zip or a sleeve or something equally unimportant, but Blaine seemed to be genuinely in awe of it – of him. Sneaking yourself into your place of work just doesn’t feel as dangerous as sneaking someone else in.

They had two of the best seats in the house (and ignored the fact that nobody was exactly fighting for them), both agreeing wine was a bad idea. Regardless of what had happened last time Blaine had alcohol, they didn’t want to climb over everyone to get to the bathroom.

The show was not a comedy, but it was the hardest either of them had laughed in months. The actors, knowing it was a flop, had more or less given up apart from a few who were still desperately trying to give it everything, and the audience gradually moved forward as it became clear that the more expensive seats hadn’t sold. Eventually the cast was playing for laughs, making jokes at their own expense. The male lead flashed, twice, making the future starlet opposite him finally lose concentration and dissolve into giggles. She recovered quickly but never fully, and the corners of her mouth were curling on every other line.

Blaine’s laugh was infectious, and it spread to the small clump of people who had bunched together. They didn’t bother leaving seats between groups like most New Yorkers would. There was a sense of seeing it through together ‘til the bitter end, one woman even yelling ‘you can do it!’, and another ‘we believe in you!’ when a pale chorus boy forgot his only line.

Kurt couldn’t stop glancing over to Blaine, trying to see his reactions to the costumes. Every time a new one was revealed his mouth would twitch open and his breath caught in his throat. He bit his lip so many times in excitement that Kurt thought it was going to bleed. 

He understood what Blaine had been saying about seeing something through someone else’s eyes. He could finally appreciate (apart from just how bad the play was) the effects he’d achieved, the ones he’d been aiming for. The light was catching the fabrics and embellishments in all the right places, complimenting every movement of every actor. Blaine’s eyes shone and reflected each colour on the stage, blues, greens, purples, and in the final act when the lead girl waltzed on in a golden ball gown (the plot was too ridiculous to explain; suffice it to say it involved a lot of twists and turns, detoured into some existential doubt, and ended with a dance), Blaine grabbed Kurt’s arm automatically. Her headpiece connected to the gown itself, and the whole thing shimmered gently, making her look like she was floating or radioactive or magical or all three. Kurt realised as he watched Blaine taking it in that it wasn’t the reflection of the dress he could see in his eyes; they were already golden.

Perhaps a couple of hours earlier, Blaine would have let go of Kurt as soon as he realised he’d clutched at his wrist. It could have been the bizarre scenario of actors powering their way, badly, through a terrible play, or maybe it was just being surrounded by laughter. There was a chance it was because of Kurt, but no matter what the reason, Blaine’s hand stayed where it was for the rest of the show, grip looser and thumb stroking gently up and down, and it made Kurt’s chest tighten.

They could barely breathe when they left. Kurt offered to take Blaine backstage to meet everyone, but he wrinkled his nose.

“I think I’d struggle to find anything nice to say. ‘Did you get a penis reduction especially for the flashing scene, or is it just cold up there?’ Maybe, ‘good for you! You didn’t fall over!’” He turned to another imaginary actor. “‘But bad luck for you; you really went right on your face, how’s the chin?’ God, you told me it was bad, but I think that’s one of the best awful plays I’ve ever seen.”

Kurt sucked in a breath between laughs.

“I can’t believe I just put you through that. Congratulations, Blaine Anderson, you just got front row tickets to the worst production of all time!”

“With far better costumes than it deserved-”

Kurt laughed.

“Right, right, good save-”

“No, Kurt, I mean it; Look, I know I don’t have as much experience as you, but I’ve met a lot of design nerds in my time and those were amazing.”

Kurt beamed. He actually preferred compliments from people who weren’t involved in the business; they always felt more honest. Nobody was trying to butter him up to make a connection. Not a professional connection, at least.

“Well, let’s try and put that behind us, shall we? I’m glad we waited before we started drinking; if we’d started in there, I doubt we would’ve stopped. Come on.”

Blaine paused on the sidewalk. Kurt turned back to see him staring at him, head cocked, still trying to stop laughing.

“Wait, wait, there’s more? That was easily a month’s entertainment-”

“You didn’t think I was about to let you go hungry?”

For half a second, Blaine tensed up at the idea of some fancy restaurant, but he reminded himself of how much fun he’d just had. It was going to be fine. He jogged to catch up with Kurt and they walked a couple of blocks until they reached a café so tiny the front was barely visible. Kurt opened the door for him, revealing a stairway down into a dark labyrinth of small rooms, all interconnected, full of tables and mismatched chairs. There was a gentle hum of conversation and music, and a Hispanic woman with silky black hair draped over one shoulder and red lips to match her red dress beamed at Kurt before sweeping them both inside. She kissed him on the cheek (and, Blaine suspected, goosed him, judging by the way he jumped and blushed) before introducing herself.

“You must be Blaine. Santana.”

Blaine started to extend a hand, but Santana pulled him into a hug and planted a kiss on his cheek to match Kurt’s. His suspicions were confirmed as he felt a hand squeeze his ass. She pulled back and smirked at Kurt with her eyebrows raised.

“Very nice. Firm. Come on, I’ll take you to your table.”

Blaine looked to Kurt for reassurance, and he smiled back at him.

“We go way back. She kinda grows on you. Trust me.”

He did.

The place was perfect. They were at the back of the main dining room, which had booths dotted around the edge and a couple of freestanding tables. It was large, with a small stage at the far side of the room, and their table was secluded enough to feel private. The ceilings were low, the food was delicious, and thanks to Santana, the wine was flowing freely. Blaine took another sip of red as he swallowed a mouthful of his chocolate torte.

“Here’s what I don’t understand. You know the play’s bad. You know the people there don’t appreciate you. You know you can do so much better; there must be a thousand design companies, maybe even magazines that would kill to have you working for them. Why are you still there?”

Kurt dropped his napkin on his spotless plate (he’d given Santana his best cheesecake recipe years ago and ‘The Kurt Hum-melt’ had become one of her best sellers; that entitled him to free dinners for life as if she wouldn’t have given them to him anyway) and sat back in the cosy leather seat. His foot fidgeted against a table leg.

“I’m not really sure. It was always supposed to be temporary, but the money was good. I guess I got comfortable. I was actually going to move on, but then the insemination worked a lot sooner than we expected, and I didn’t want to screw everything up with the baby coming.”

Blaine nodded, taking another mouthful of his dessert and speaking again before he could swallow.

“But what about now? I don’t want to overstep, but I know it’s not the money.” Hiram and Leroy had paid for Rachel’s substantial life insurance policy, the entirety of which had gone straight to Kurt as her kind-of spouse and father of her child. Nobody contested it; he was essentially her life partner, and he had enough to worry about without money problems. Even Hiram knew it was for the best that the money went towards Eliza’s care. Blaine repeated his earlier question: “Why are you still there?”

“What about you? Why aren’t you pursuing the whole music thing-”

Kurt felt bad as soon as he’d said it, but Blaine didn’t flinch.

“That’s different. I like what I’m doing now. You don’t.”

“I’m not good enough.”

“Yes you are. You know you’re more than good enough.”

“Do you doubt my self-doubt? You’re going to give me a complex-”

Kurt reached for his glass, but Blaine pushed it away. Kurt let his hand drop to the table.

“Kurt.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me from having a drink-”

Blaine covered Kurt’s hand with his own.

“Kurt. Why?”

Kurt’s answer was quiet. He knew he couldn’t keep deflecting. He didn’t want to anymore.

“Because of her.” Blaine gave Kurt’s hand a squeeze and leaned forward. “I… I can’t. I was there when she… it’s kind of… if I left, it’d be like I was leaving her, and I’m already-”

Blaine frowned.

“Already what?”

Kurt made himself look straight into Blaine’s eyes, and he almost melted then and there.

“I’m already starting to forget. Being part of a theatre, working in musicals, even terrible ones, it’s her. It’s a little piece of her I can hold onto.”

Blaine nudged the wine glass back toward his hand, but he didn’t pick it up.

“Kurt, you know-”

“I know it’s stupid. She’s gone. She’s gone, and no terrible play is going to change that, and maybe I’m just staying because it feels safe-”

“No, Kurt, I just… you’ve got all the Rachel you need. You’ve got Lizzie. There’s more Rachel in her than in that show.”

“You didn’t know her.”

“I know. From what you’ve told me, it’s my loss. That little girl is smart and loud and adorable, and that sounds a lot like the Rachel I’ve heard about, mixed with a lot of you.” He gave Kurt’s hand another gentle squeeze. “The play’s awful. As far as I can tell, Rachel wasn’t. She’d want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

Kurt nodded, blinking hard to try and stop them stinging. Blaine’s hand slipped down from the table. There was a cheer from their fellow diners, and Kurt looked up to see Santana sashaying onto the stage, her dress barely dusting the floor as it swished around her feet. This was why Kurt had picked a Thursday. She had different musicians in every night, but she took to the stage once a week to seduce the crowd with her smooth, sultry spin on whichever songs took her fancy. Tonight, however, Kurt had made a special request, and he smiled as the piano kicked in from the corner.

_“My baby don’t care for shows; my baby don’t care for clothes; my baby just cares for me…”_

It was faster than anything Santana would’ve picked, but this was perfect.

Kurt realised Blaine had stood up next to him and was offering his hand and smiling. Nobody else was dancing yet, but they would be after a couple of bars. The atmosphere was irresistible.

“Come on.”

Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine’s and let himself be led to the dance floor. Blaine laid a gentle hand on the small of his back and they swayed softly in time to the music. They kept their hips an appropriate distance apart and kept talking as they twirled each other around, ignoring the various couples and groups of friends around them. This is why Kurt picked this place – aside from the fact that Santana owned it and he was guaranteed special treatment and that it wasn’t unbearably ‘showbiz’ – it wasn’t strictly romantic. It was comfortable and friendly, and they wouldn’t feel awkward being the only two people in the room who weren’t in a relationship.

_“My baby don’t care for cars and races; my baby don’t care for… he don’t care for high-tone places…”_

Kurt squeezed gently on Blaine’s waist.

“Kurt?”

“Mmm?”

Blaine reached up to mutter in his ear.

“Did you by any chance have something to do with the song selection?”

Kurt almost shivered at the feeling of Blaine’s breath so close, but smiled and kept looking over his shoulder, pulling him a little closer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Santana would never let me tell her what to do.”

Blaine nodded slowly, not buying it for a second, but he didn’t pull away from Kurt’s hold. Instead he stepped into it before taking Kurt’s hand; stepping back and flicking it so he flew out then tugging him back in again. Kurt crashed into him and they both laughed helplessly, their heads on each other’s shoulders as they shook with giggles. Santana smiled as she watched them but kept singing, hitting every note beautifully as always.

_“I wonder what’s wrong with baby… My baby just cares for, just says his prayers for, my baby just cares for me…”_

***

“Okay, that’s it; I’ve been dying to ask you all night; what was all of this in aid of? The show, dinner, dancing-”

“Dancing was your idea.”

“Touché.” He grinned. “But seriously, why did you do all of this? Surely you must have someone else you could have gone with, someone more…”

Kurt took Blaine’s arm and stopped him in the middle of the street. They shuffled to one side to let other people past. They’d stayed later than anyone else, soaking up the music and the warmth. Santana had tried to keep them longer, but they knew they had to relieve the babysitters. Hiram and Leroy were always glad to help, but they’d be struggling to stay up past eleven, never mind 2am. The breeze was still drifting through the streets alongside them.

“That’s exactly why. I didn’t say anything before, Blaine, but the other night when you were still out of it, you started talking about how you’d tried to go to some expensive bar with your friends, and you thought just because you hated it you were boring - well, you said you thought I would think you were boring.”

Blaine’s eyes narrowed and kept darting around as the conversation started to seep back into his mind.

“Wait – I said that?”

“Yes, you kept saying how I probably loved all those clubs and that whole scene, which is crazy, because a) I’m thirty and b) I never liked it in the first place. Even though a night in with you and Lizzie is still perfect, a night out doesn’t have to be some obscene affair with a thousand pretentious assholes. Dinner and dancing in a small place like that, local and quiet and friendly, that’s all I want. And the fact that it was with you, well… that made it even better. I wanted to go with you. I had such a good time tonight, Blaine.”

Blaine smiled, his eyes shining. Kurt couldn’t tell if he was tearing up or if it was just the moonlight, but they were beautiful. He was beautiful.

“Me too. Thank you. So much.”

They both wanted to do something – hold hands, jump into each other’s arms, make out in the street – but it was harder there than it was in the café. With no music, nobody dancing around them, no underground restaurant that felt like it was their own secret cavern, they felt exposed. They both took a deep breath and Kurt gestured in the direction of home. They were only a few blocks away, and they could walk home in the time it would take to hail a cab.

“Shall we?”

Blaine smiled, and they started walking again, side by side. The backs of their hands brushed against each other, and at first they flinched away, but the second time they both lingered. Out in the city, late at night, just the two of them alone, this slightest contact between them was enough to make both of their pulses race and their chests tighten. Kurt bit his lip.

“Kurt, when I was saying all that stuff, about being boring or whatever,” he felt a blush edging up to his cheeks, “I didn’t, uh… I didn’t say anything else, did I?”

Kurt bit his lip harder and smiled at the ground.

“No,” the kind of guy who could deserve you… “No, I can’t remember anything else.” Angular… “Maybe something about me being good at drawing. Nothing I didn’t already know.”

Blaine kept frowning, trying to force the fog from his brain, but he realised what a mess he’d been that night. It was probably for the best that he forgot.

“I guess I should stop saying that kind of thing if it makes you take me to stupid plays and gets me felt up by your scary friends.”

Kurt shouldered him playfully, but it almost knocked him over. When he straightened himself out, he put his hand back in its place next to Kurt’s, a little closer than before. Nobody else could have seen their fingers stroking together, but they both felt it and suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

This was anything but boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Santana sings is 'My Baby Just Cares for Me' by Nina Simone. You can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYSbUOoq4Vg) or [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_eUsV8jUf0) sung by Florence Welch, the way I imagine it in the story.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is 'On the Street Where You Live' and it's from _My Fair Lady_. You can listen to it [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YtbFwWkB4b8)

Kurt had taken the day off. He spent the whole day in his office, looking back at the sketches he’d done for fun, and he started to realise just how many there were. He scribbled frenziedly, working on half-completed drawings, transforming pieces from vague outlines into designs that were bold and beautiful. He hadn’t been this engrossed in his work in years. If Blaine hadn’t dragged him downstairs he probably wouldn’t have eaten all day.

“I’m telling you I ate enough last night I won’t be hungry again for a week please I’m almost done-”

Blaine laughed and didn’t let go of his arm as he marched him towards the kitchen.

“That’s what you said an hour ago. Come on, we were starting to miss you.”

Kurt stopped arguing and looked at Blaine with raised eyebrows.

“We?”

“Well, I’m already sick of you again, but she doesn’t want to eat with just me. Sit.”

He choked down the salad in front of him, bouncing Eliza on his lap, and rushed back upstairs. Before he knew it, it was dark outside and he had three thick portfolios overflowing with sketches, designs for men, women, everyday, formal, catwalk, a thousand different cuts and colours. He didn’t remember doing half of them; it was like reading old diaries, seeing parts of himself he’d forgotten. It was enough for a collection. It was enough for a dozen. He’d spent almost an hour on the phone to Joanna, his college professor, setting up meetings and interviews. She’d almost screamed when she recognised his voice (‘I don’t know who put you up to this, but if you’re not fucking them I will’) and sworn to use every connection she had to get him out of ‘that hellhole’. 

He leaned back in his seat with his fingers linked behind his head, puffing out his cheeks as he exhaled. He heard a voice coming from the next room. It was smooth, beautiful, and so warm he felt like it was holding him. It was Blaine.

_“I have often walked down this street before…”_

The song was enough to make Kurt’s eyes sting. He’d had to sing it at Rachel a thousand times so she could ‘gain a better understanding of the character’, even though she mostly just missed singing with him. Every time he would say ‘you’re not even in the scene; why do you need to go over it again?’ but within minutes he’d be twirling her around the kitchen, even when she was seven months pregnant, feeling like they were in high school again. Now he was glad he’d never been able to say no.

_“But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before…”_

Kurt slowly stood up, making sure he was silent. The last thing he wanted was for Blaine to stop. He crept towards Eliza’s room, his heart pounding, and stopped in the doorway to listen as Blaine had his back to him. He rocked from side to side in time, cradling Eliza against his chest and occasionally holding her up to rub her nose against his.

_“All at once am I several storeys high…”_

He lifted her over his head, making her giggle. Kurt caught her eye and grinned; she clapped and squealed at the sight of him, just as Blaine sang:

_“Knowing I’m on the street where you live…”_

Kurt ducked out of sight behind the door frame. He felt guilty somehow, as if he were hearing something he shouldn’t have been, but he kept listening anyway.

_“Are there lilac trees in the heart of town?  
Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?   
Does enchantment pour out of every door?   
No, it’s just on the street where you live…”_

Kurt leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, letting his head fall back as he took a few deep breaths. It was the song about Eliza Doolittle. The last part Rachel ever got and the reason behind his daughter’s name. He felt a tear start to spill over his eyelashes, trickling so slowly down his cheek that it felt like it was mocking him. He wiped it away in frustration, silently telling himself to get it together.

_“And oh, the towering feeling,  
Just to know somehow you are near,  
The overpowering feeling,  
That any second you may suddenly appear…”_

A smile started to form on Kurt’s lips. It had been so long since he’d heard the song that he’d forgotten how lovely it was. Even though he could picture Rachel poking and teasing him for it, he let himself imagine for a second that Blaine was singing it about him. He could practically hear her laughing and singing ‘you like him!’, and he looked at the ceiling and mouthed ‘shut up’. He edged towards the baby’s room, inching around the doorway to get another look at Blaine, utterly relaxed as he sang to her.

_“People stop and stare. They don’t bother me.  
For there’s nowhere else on earth that I would rather be.   
Let the time go by…” _

He turned and saw him. Kurt thought about darting out of sight and pretending he’d never been there at all, but by the time he formulated a plan it was too late. Not only had Blaine seen him, he’d made that particular kind of eye contact that was almost impossible to break. Instead of the reaction Kurt expected – blushing, going silent, suddenly deciding he needed something downstairs and running away – Blaine beamed at him and finished the song, loudly and theatrically, lifting Eliza again and spinning around so she giggled uncontrollably.

_“I won’t care if I,  
Can be here on the street where you live.”_

As the song ended, he concentrated on the baby, bringing a hand up to stroke her hair and holding her hand. Her fist clenched around his thumb as it always did. He bent his head forward to kiss her on the cheek. When he finally looked up, Kurt started blushing. He felt like he’d intruded on something painfully private.

“I’m sorry I- should I go?” Blaine smiled at him and held back a laugh when he kept rambling. “I mean, I know you don’t like, well, obviously you must like it because you must have heard yourself and you can’t hate anything that sounds like that but I understand if you don’t want me to- you, um… you’re… you’re really good, Blaine. Why did you…”

“Why did I stop?”

Kurt nodded. He couldn’t stand to hear any more of his own verbal diarrhoea. Blaine looked at the baby again for a second, then back to Kurt. He sat in one of the armchairs and held Eliza on his lap. She gazed up at him. Kurt sat in the other chair, shifting it to be a little closer to him.

“My parents were kind of pushy. They’d probably call it enthusiastic and encouraging, but they were on the verge of being scary stage parents. When I was a kid I didn’t really mind, because it was just singing with my mom and it all felt like a game, and at school I was in the choir and the musical, and I loved singing. If people tell you over and over that you’re good at something, you kind of just want to do it to make them happy, you know?”

Kurt knew. He remembered trying to do what he thought his dad would want, and realised how lucky he was to have learned so young that he was loved regardless.

“Anyway, as I got older, the audiences got bigger. There were shows and competitions and stuff, and people were always so sweet about it but it got too big. Even in college, playing and singing to other performers felt weird, like they were all trying to figure out how to beat me. I know I was probably imagining it. It was just… music was my special thing. Writing music was kind of like writing a journal, and then sharing that with a crowd of strangers was like telling them everything about me, what made me happy, what I was scared of, who I was in love with… It was as if somebody was barging in on something totally private, like they’d cut me open and were just poking around.”  
Kurt wrinkled his nose unconsciously; Eliza giggled and Blaine cuddled her close and tucked her head under his chin.

“Okay, that was gross, but I just remember feeling so exposed. It wasn’t adrenaline-rush, rollercoasters and fireworks, can’t-wait-to-get-onstage nerves; I didn’t feel safe. Actually, after I dropped out, I didn’t have anything to do with music for months, and then I started working for Coop. It pissed my parents off, of course, but just hanging out with Henry and Stacey all day was perfect. I didn’t even realise I’d been singing them to sleep until Cooper pointed it out. He thought it was hilarious. I guess when it’s around people I trust, people I care about, it’s not so scary. People like Henry, Stacey, Lizzie… you…”

Kurt swallowed and tried to stop his face from lighting up too much. He cares about me he cares about me HE cares about ME… It didn’t work. Blaine grinned at him.

“Yes, Kurt. You. I knew you were listening.”

Kurt frowned.

“How?”

“I know everything. And I saw your reflection in that picture frame.”

“But you didn’t stop.”

“Then I guess you are one of the few privileged people in the world who is allowed to hear me sing. Now, I think someone’s hungry, so it’s time for dinner.” Kurt stood up and was about to head back into the office to keep working, when he saw Blaine put the baby in her crib.

“I thought you said-”

“I meant you. She’s been stuffing her face and you haven’t eaten since lunch; I’m ordering Chinese and we’re going to watch something that has nothing to do with clothes. You need a clear head for tomorrow.”

They watched ‘The Devil Wears Prada’.

***

Kurt was pretty sure he was vibrating. It was 9am and he’d already lost count of how many coffees he’d had. Blaine had glared at him until he’d eaten a slice of toast and an apple and forced him to sit on the couch with the baby on his lap. She stared up at him, wondering why he was trembling. Kurt wasn't even surprised that she managed to convey concern for her father's wellbeing. Nothing she did surprised him anymore. He kissed her on the head and held her hand to reassure her, but he didn't fool either of them.

“It’s just a meeting, Blaine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Sure. Deep breaths.”

Kurt insisted they weren’t necessary but complied anyway. This definitely wasn’t just a meeting. This was a meeting with two executives and a senior designer from Lyric, not the biggest, but his personal favourite design house in Manhattan. This was Joanna’s idea of ‘easing him back into real design’. This was The Meeting.

He dropped his bag three times on his way from the kitchen to the door. He had more than enough time to get there and he had everything he needed and he knew that even if this didn’t work out there would be other options, something just as exciting, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He stood for almost a minute with his hand glued to the door handle, until Blaine appeared behind him and covered it with his own.

“Kurt.”

Kurt’s breathing slowed down at the sound of his voice, but his pulse sped up as soon as he felt the warmth of Blaine’s skin against his. He let go of the door and turned to face him. Blaine’s hands moved up to his arms, gripping him firmly.

“Mmm?”

“Whatever happens, you’ve got Eliza. And you’ve got me. We’ll both still be here when you get home. Got it?”  
Kurt swallowed and nodded. His throat was tight and his voice was strained, but he forced out a quiet ‘kay’.

“You’re gonna kill it; I know you are.”

Kurt took another deep breath. He didn’t feel much like a killer. He didn’t feel much like anything except a pile of raw nerves, but he smiled weakly at Blaine.

Blaine grinned back at him before sliding his hands down from Kurt’s biceps to his wrists, kept moving them until their hands were touching, joining, their fingers linking together. He reached up to kiss him on the cheek, gently but firmly enough to show that he meant it, lingering for a beat. Both of their hands automatically gave a squeeze.  
Kurt’s eyes fluttered, and when Blaine pulled away again he was blushing.

“Go get ‘em.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is why the story is rated 'explicit'. So, yeah, it gets kind of rude.

“Honey, do you have any idea where this could go? These guys are just getting off the ground right now, but they’ve grown more in the last six months than other companies do in years, and they couldn’t lock you down fast enough. If you’re a part of this while it takes off, you could have your pick. You could do literally anything. Kurt, are you even listening to me?”

He wasn’t. As they walked out of the building, down the clear Perspex staircase and through the monochrome lobby, he knew his fingers were digging into Joanna’s arm but he couldn’t do anything about it. The meeting was a blur, and every time he tried to replay it in his mind it got stuck on fast forward and all he could hear was ‘amazing’ and ‘we’d be thrilled to have you on board’. If it hadn’t been for Jo clinging to his elbow, he would have collapsed in a heap in the revolving door, and that was not the impression he wanted to make on his new colleagues. Just the thought of them being his colleagues, people he’d admired for months, working here, doing things every day that he was truly excited about was almost enough to make him hyperventilate. All he could think about was telling Blaine. Then he remembered what had happened before he left the house.

_Blaine. Kissed. Me._

His head almost exploded.

He thanked Jo again for everything she’d done and got a fraction of his excess energy out in a giant hug. She didn’t even mind when he nudged her silver hair out of place and almost knocked her glasses off. She took both of his hands in hers (HEY KURT REMEMBER THIS MORNING WHEN BLAINE DID THAT – his brain refused to let him focus on anything else for more than four seconds) and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Tell him, Kurt.”

“About the job?”

She patted his cheek twice, just hard enough to leave a light pink mark before squeezing his face between her fingers and thumb. He looked like a confused fish. She tilted her head and moved in so close that their noses were almost touching – surprising as she was almost a foot shorter than him.

“No.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, and she let go. She kissed his cheeks and nudged him in the direction of the nearest subway station with a bump of her hip. He flickered back to life and hugged her again before racing down the steps, clutching at his bag so his hands wouldn’t tremble.

***

Blaine heard scrabbling at the door and ran to get it, bouncing Eliza at his side, reading from his phone just loudly enough for Kurt to hear from the step.

“Kurt, I think you’re going to have to translate this for me… It just says ‘job job job job job job job’ and then a bunch of random letters and numbers and it doesn’t really make-”

As soon as he opened the door, Kurt took one step inside and kissed him. Not on the cheek or the head or the shoulder; he really kissed him. He cupped his face with one hand and used to other to cover the arm holding onto Eliza, who looked on unsurprised as their lips crashed together, sucking a breath in through their nostrils so as not to separate, both shaking slightly with the force of it. Blaine started to droop down as his muscles melted under Kurt, but he felt an arm wrap around his waist and pull him up, pressing them together even more firmly. 

He dropped his phone on the floor and clutched at Kurt’s waist, back, shoulder with his free hand, sure that no contact, no amount of feeling Kurt’s heartbeat racing against his own would ever be too much and trying desperately to pull him closer despite the nonplussed child on his hip. Kurt brought both hands back up to Blaine’s face and slowly pulled away. Blaine tried to follow him, but Kurt held him in place. They stared at each other for a second, breathless.

“I… I-”

“You kissed me.”

“I got the job.”

“You got the job.”

“I kissed you.”

“Do it again.”

“Kay,” he mumbled into Blaine’s mouth as he kissed him again, more softly and slowly, both of them relaxing into each other, lips parting just enough for their tongues to push together. Kurt licked into Blaine’s mouth, sliding his tongue across his lower lip until he moaned. Kurt smiled against him and forced himself to come back down to Earth. This was getting inappropriate considering present company. Blaine let out the quietest whimper as Kurt pulled back again, keeping their noses and foreheads rubbing together.

“Kurt-”

“Blaine. The baby.”

“She doesn’t mind-”

“That’s weird. I mind. Come here, honey.”

Blaine kept grinning at Kurt as he lifted Eliza from his grip and she instantly nuzzled against his neck in congratulations. He couldn’t tell if it was for the job or the man, but he accepted her approval.

“I don’t even know who you’re talking about now.”

Kurt sighed.

“Good point. This could get confusing.”

He made his way upstairs, smiling at the baby and talking to her in an excited whisper.

“Did you hear that, Lizzie? Daddy got a new job! I don’t have to see those irritating actors ever again!”

Blaine followed him into Eliza’s room.

“You called them?”

“Yep. I might have used the words ‘job’, shove’, ‘up’ and ‘asses’; I don’t really remember. There was a lot of yelling on the other end so I hung up.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I don’t owe them anything.”

Kurt gently lowered the baby into the crib, giving her a peck on the temple, and she yawned obediently. She wasn’t due a nap for another hour, but Blaine had been dancing excitedly around the house with her all morning and she was exhausted. And she knew they had stuff to do that didn’t involve her, and she didn’t particularly want to see it.

Kurt kept watching her as she gazed at her hands and blinked slowly. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist and hooked his chin over his shoulder.

“Is it me or has she gotten bigger in the last couple of days?”

“Maybe you’re getting smaller.”

Blaine smirked.

“Hilarious. I actually don’t think that’s possible. Either way, she’s perfect.”

Kurt hummed in agreement and leaned into Blaine, letting his head tilt back until his cheek was resting on Blaine’s hair and folding his arms over the ones curled firmly around his stomach. Despite the butterflies and the tingling and the electric excitement, it already felt so normal, so natural. They fit together as if they’d been standing this close for years.

“Blaine?”

He reached his head up and whispered ‘yeah?’ before ducking back down to press a kiss to Kurt’s shoulder.

“I love you.”

“Good.”

Kurt started to turn back to him.

“Good?”

Blaine smirked.

“I love you too. I… You’re just, I mean, when I’m here, when I’m with you, I just-”

Kurt twisted around, loosening Blaine’s hold so he could loop his arms over his shoulders and kept kissing him, muttering to him after each one.

“I know, Blaine,” he kissed him, “I know,” another kiss as he teased Blaine’s hair between his fingers, “you make me so happy-” Blaine gave a small moan of agreement, “I’ve never smiled so much,” he sucked on his bottom lip, “or laughed so hard,” he kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his eyebrow, his temple, his jaw, “or felt so good,” he reached Blaine’s earlobe just as he felt him start to kiss his neck, “and it’s all because of you,” now it was Blaine’s turn to pull back and leave Kurt wanting more. He titled his head slightly to glance at the crib.

“She’s asleep.”

“Come here.”

They reattached, stumbling towards the door and closing it behind them - she was far too young for that kind of trauma – before Kurt pulled Blaine into his own room by his shirt. He ran his thumb over his abdomen, the soft curve of his stomach next to firm muscle, and sunk down to kiss his collarbone.

“You don’t,” Blaine managed to whimper despite the tightness in his throat, “you don’t think this is,” Kurt hit the spot under his ear and his head fell back with a gasp, “you don’t think it’s too soon, I mean, I don’t wanna, oh-” he groaned as Kurt’s hand slid down the back of his jeans to knead into the swell of his ass.

“Blaine, it’s been months,” he kissed him and moved his hands to hold Blaine’s, “I… I’ve wanted to… Do you want me to stop? If you want to stop, I-”

Blaine shook his head and kissed each of Kurt’s hands in turn before pulling his shirt roughly over his head.

“Don’t stop. Ever.”

Kurt swept in to kiss him once more, shaking his head, I won’t, I promise, before gradually kissing his way down Blaine’s chest and pushing him onto the bed. He knelt between his legs and hovered over him, kissing his breastbone, flicking a nipple with his tongue, moaning into his skin as he felt fingers running through his hair and scraping over his scalp. Blaine pulled the scarf from Kurt’s neck and let it float to the floor behind him, gasping as Kurt kept sucking on his skin relentlessly, humming into it and making every hair stand up. His thighs twitched with every kiss and his cock was already straining in his pants, painfully hard.

“Kurt- I-”

Kurt understood instantly and shifted back up to kiss Blaine as he unfastened his jeans. Blaine fumbled at Kurt’s shirt hopelessly, already dizzy from Kurt’s fist closing around his cock, his thumb running smoothly under the head and up over the slit. Kurt smiled and whispered ‘it’s okay, I’ve got it,’ before yanking the whole thing over his head. As careful as he usually was about his clothes, he couldn’t let anything slow him down now.

“Before we go any further, I should warn you,” he gripped firmly onto Blaine’s hips and started to move off the bed, “I’ve got baggage. I have a kid.” Blaine smiled up at him.

“Ew. You must be so…” he sucked in a breath and smirked despite his compromised position, “old.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“Wow. There’s a limit, Blaine. If you’d rather take a cold shower-”

Blaine held onto Kurt’s neck and pulled him back towards his face, stroking at his jaw with his thumb and kissing him, slowly and passionately.

“Sorry; you know I don’t-”

Kurt rolled his eyes and grinned.

“I know,” he kissed him again, “it’s okay. I love that you’re still so scared of screwing this up when I’m jerking you off.”  
Blaine closed his eyes and bit his lip. Something about hearing Kurt saying it made him shiver. He pulled him down for another kiss, this time rougher, messier, more desperate.

Kurt sat up, gently pushing Blaine back down when he tried to follow him. He ran another trail of kisses down his chest, lingering more with each one as he inched towards his cock. He sucked into the dip between his pubic bone and his abdomen, making his chest lift up spasmodically and dragging out a moan. Kurt took one look at Blaine writhing on the bed and the sweat forming on his forehead before sinking his mouth down onto his cock until the head hit the back of his throat. Blaine gasped when he felt Kurt swallow around him before gradually moving back up, kissing up and down the shaft, licking a stripe up the underside and swirling his tongue around the head. 

Blaine stroked wide circles on Kurt’s back then stuttered, trying and failing to grip onto the smooth skin when Kurt took him into his throat again. His hips jerked up involuntarily, and when Kurt didn’t even flinch he slid his hand up to grip onto his hair.

“Oh, God, Kurt…”

Kurt hummed to acknowledge the praise, the vibration making Blaine convulse and thrust up into his mouth again. He swallowed him expertly, sucking harder and hollowing his cheeks until Blaine was trembling all over. He could have stayed like this for hours, taking Blaine apart with his mouth, but they both wanted more.

He reluctantly removed his mouth from Blaine’s dick, kicking his own shoes off as he shoved Blaine’s jeans and boxers to the floor. He allowed himself a moment to take in the naked, glistening mess on his bed, the curves and twists in his muscles, the beads of moisture on his chest, the flicker of his eyelids as he looked up desperately, yet another tremor rolling over his body as his cock went from warm and wet and completely consumed by Kurt’s hot mouth to bare and exposed and begging for friction. Kurt trailed a teasing finger across the vein running along the underside and his body jerked violently. His head pushed into the mattress and his dick twitched against his will, making Kurt smile with satisfaction knowing that he’d made it happen; he’d transformed the cheerful, supportive, responsible nanny into a quivering heap.

“Kurt, please…”

Kurt snapped back into focus and hastily pulled at his pants until they were on the floor in a puddle with his briefs. He stepped deftly out of them, kicking the fabric away in a heap and climbed back in between Blaine’s legs, pushing his thighs further apart and slowly starting to stroke his dick again. Blaine groaned loudly, another spasm quaking through him, and Kurt used the temporary gap between his back and the mattress to slide an arm under him and lift him up. He crawled under him until he was kneeling, holding Blaine up so their chests were rubbing together, one hand still on his cock. Blaine was perched on his lap, his thighs squeezing around his waist and his toes gripping onto the bed. He was grinding against Kurt in time with the careful strokes on his cock, both of their cocks together, oh god, his head falling forward onto Kurt’s shoulder. He pressed clumsy, wet kisses against his neck in between strangled groans.

Kurt reached for the drawer of his nightstand, letting go for a second to grab lube and a condom. He dropped the lube next to them and ripped the foil packet open, but Blaine put a hand on his arm.

“You don’t have- I’m- we don’t-”

That translated to ‘I know neither of us has anything and I don’t think I can wait any longer’, so Kurt dropped the condom on the floor and put his arm around Blaine’s back again.

“Okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Kurt whispered as Blaine took over stroking them both, losing almost all sense of rhythm as he felt Kurt’s hands everywhere, mapping out the muscles of his back, massaging his ass and spreading his cheeks. Kurt ducked his head down to nudge Blaine’s arm away, knowing that if he kept going neither of them would last. “Wait,” he growled into Blaine’s neck, “not yet. Wait.”

Blaine nodded helplessly and kissed him again, one arm clinging to his neck as the other cupped his jaw. He heard the cap popping off the lube behind him and suddenly felt a cold finger tracing between his cheeks until it was pressing gently at his entrance. Blaine gasped and started to grind down, desperately trying to work Kurt’s finger into him, and after circling the ring of muscles twice to give it a coating he slowly inched inside. Blaine shuddered, freezing mid-kiss, panting into Kurt’s mouth and pulling him closer if it was possible. Their sweat mingled on their chests and Blaine’s cock was trapped between them but he didn’t care, just kept pushing down on Kurt’s finger as it worked in and out of him slowly and deliberately.

“Kurt, more, I, please…”

Kurt’s chest fluttered at Blaine’s breath in his ear. Blaine groaned against his skin, sucking on his shoulder and Kurt started to shiver as Blaine’s hair tickled his neck. He inserted another finger, and another, feeling the muscles stretch around him and shaking more with every moan vibrating against his skin and the fingers clawing at his back. He complied with Blaine’s pleas for ‘more’ and ‘faster’ and ‘please’, and worked his fingers inside him quickly, furiously, up to his knuckles then sliding out slowly before thrusting them all the way in again. Blaine was squirming on top of him, kissing him desperately, longing to be even closer to him as he started sentences he couldn’t finish, each of them beginning with Kurt’s name. Finally, he wrapped his arm as far as he could around Kurt’s back and groaned ‘now’.

Kurt kissed Blaine’s neck as he lifted him up, quickly stroked the excess lube onto his cock and lowered Blaine onto it. He was going to go slowly, give him time to adjust, but before he could gain any kind of control Blaine had sunk over him, gasping as he was stretched even further, and all Kurt could see, hear, feel was Blaine. Everything was a white hot blur as he felt Blaine’s muscles clenched around him, hot and tight and perfect. They groaned in unison at the relief. Blaine felt so surrounded by yet so full of Kurt that he had to take a second to hold him there, inside him and in his arms, whispering ‘so good… so much… so beautiful’. Kurt couldn’t stop his hips from jerking upwards, and the sudden moan from Blaine combined with the fingers sliding up to grip onto his hair made his whole body move in time with him. He started to work up into Blaine, firmly holding the hips rolling down onto him.

“Fuck, Blaine, you… you’re so…” he finished his sentence by kissing him, pushing his tongue into Blaine’s mouth and reaching up to hold the back of his neck, sucking air in every time there was a gap between them. Blaine shifted on his knees so he could control every movement, every angle, every inch of Kurt’s cock as it moved inside him. As he found a rhythm riding him, Kurt’s hips moving up to meet his ass with a slap, his cock hit his prostate making him groan obscenely. He pushed Kurt back on the mattress, laying his palms on his chest and lowering himself to kiss him as he moved faster, hitting the spot again and again. As his eyes rolled back further into his head, Kurt grabbed his cock and started stroking again, much more roughly than before, until Blaine started to gasp desperately.

“Kurt, I, I’m-”

Blaine grabbed Kurt’s shoulders and pulled him up again, needing as much contact as possible. His mouth froze, trying to close around words that didn’t exist, that refused to form in his mind; all he could think was Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, and as Kurt felt Blaine spasm around him he kissed him again, licking the roof of his mouth, closing any remaining gaps between them, sealing them together. He pushed forward as Blaine came with a shout of ‘yes, Kurt, fuck…’ laying him down and pushing him into the mattress so he could thrust into him a few final times before he was yelling with him, silencing them both with another kiss.

They barely moved for what felt like hours. Kurt stroked Blaine’s cock gently, easing him through his orgasm until he hissed with oversensitivity at every touch. He held himself inside him for as long as he could, feeling exhausted and dizzy and content, kissing Blaine’s cheek, jaw and neck softly, whispering ‘perfect’ and ‘love you’ and ‘beautiful’ against his skin. Each breath sent another shiver coursing through his body as he came down, wrapping his legs around Kurt’s waist so they could stay this close for as long as possible.

Kurt ducked his head down to kiss Blaine’s chest, sucking the come from his skin, and stroked his arms as they wrapped around him to tangle in his hair. Blaine guided him back up so they were face to face, noses rubbing together, kissing so slowly it was almost painful until Kurt finally rolled onto his side. He hissed as his cock slid out of Blaine and again as he pulled him close, wrapping his arm around his waist and twisting their legs together so that every inch of them was still touching, a sweaty, sticky heap of tangled limbs and shaky breaths. 

Kurt draped one arm around Blaine’s back, caressing it so he could feel every twinge in the muscles as smaller and smaller waves of pleasure continued to travel through him. He brought his other hand up to cup Blaine’s jaw, peppering his face with kisses as he stared at him weakly from under his thick, fluttering eyelashes. 

They lay on the bed, completely exposed and exhausted, taking in the sight of each other as they hadn’t been able to before, appreciating every bone, every sinew of muscle. Blaine held Kurt’s waist and edge his hand up to trace over his ribs and settle with his palm on his chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his heartbeat as it slowed down, and Kurt covered Blaine’s hand with his own. Their fingers entwined over his heart.

“It’s yours,” Kurt whispered, kissing him again.


	13. Chapter 13

Blaine was out cold, his head in the middle of Kurt’s chest, rising and falling with every breath. Kurt’s eyes were closed, letting him breathe Blaine in as he held him tightly and kissed his hair. He could feel muscles flex slightly under his arms, shoulder blades shifting beneath skin as Blaine nuzzled against him, staying as close as possible. Kurt was terrified to move. He was terrified full stop.

This was it. He’d done it. He’d given Blaine everything and gotten everything back. He’d kissed him, and told him he loved him, and made love to him, and now here they were, breathing in sync, clinging to each other, and he kept asking himself what would happen next. Did Blaine go back to sleeping in his own room? Did he have to hire a different nanny and make Blaine work somewhere else because they were dating? Were they dating? Was this inappropriate?

He laughed silently to himself. It was probably too late to think about appropriate employer behaviour now. He stroked a circle onto Blaine’s back and breathed slowly to try to calm himself down. He didn’t know if it was working or not; his heart was thumping but that could have been adrenaline and excitement just as easily as fear. Not a lot of people could panic in this situation: he had a beautiful, loving man holding him, a daughter he adored across the hall, and a job he’d only ever dreamed of. He should have been shrieking with excitement, and part of him was, but things had almost been perfect before. And everything had fallen apart. And this… he didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to disrespect Rachel’s memory, but this felt so much better. Blaine made Kurt happier than life with Rachel ever would have. 

He opened his eyes to glance at Blaine, making sure he was still asleep, before squeezing them shut again as his stomach became heavy with guilt. 

Jesus, Rach. Still annoying me without even being here. 

He heard a crackle on the baby monitor as Eliza woke up. Blaine flinched, ready to snap into action, but Kurt shushed him.

“I’ve got it. Go back to sleep.”

Blaine nodded and smiled, drifting off again immediately. Kurt laid his head gently onto the pillows and kissed his temple before slipping out from under the covers, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of pyjama pants and padding over to the baby’s room despite the residual tremors in his thighs. She was sitting up in her crib, and Kurt tried to figure out when that had become just another thing she could do. He grinned and made aeroplane noises as he swooped down to pick her up. He gave himself a couple of minutes standing and holding her, swaying gently from one foot to the other. She nuzzled against his collarbone.

“Sorry we kind of ditched you there. Trust me, baby, it was for the best. But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. I just…” he gazed out of the window at the city, streaked with shadows as the sun set. “What if something- if he-” he looked at Eliza again, her fist in her mouth and not a care in the world, and sighed. “I’m scared. I’m scared, sweetheart; I don’t want to mess this up.”

He closed his eyes and kissed the baby’s forehead as she clutched at handfuls of his shirt. He focused on her heart beating steadily against his chest. It grounded him; it was always therapeutic talking to her, but there was only so much she could do. He needed someone who could respond.

He wandered downstairs, still holding onto the baby and whispering typical father-y nonsense: ‘come on, baby girl, let’s see what we can find down here, you’re being so good and quiet, aren’t you, we don’t want to wake Blaine up, I think he’s pretty tired…’ as he searched for his phone. As soon as he found it, he called Santana.

“You banged him yet?”

Kurt took a breath and said nothing. Busted.

“You dog! How was it? Ugh, it was hot, right? If your heart eyes the other night are anything to go by, it must’ve been-”

“Santana! I- I need to talk to you. Well, I just need to talk to someone, and I know you don’t have a life, so-”

“Excuse me. Do you want my help or not?”

“Sorry. Eliza and I will be with you in twenty.”

***

Santana started making grabby hands as soon as she opened the door.

“I thought you hated kids-”

“Blah, blah, gimme. I haven’t seen her in forever.”

She lifted Eliza out of Kurt’s arms eagerly, kissing her cheek with a loud ‘Mwah!’ and bouncing her on her hip. She did hate kids. But Eliza was different.

“Careful; she’s not used to boobs-”

“Funny. Okay, tell me everything.”

It took a few cups of coffee and some almost-hyperventilation on Santana’s part, but he explained the whirlwind that had been the last two days: the interview, the kissing, the hand-holding, the L words, the sex – although he didn’t go into as much detail there as she would have liked. He wasn’t sure if she was even listening; she seemed preoccupied with the little girl on her lap. Finally, she offered her special kind of response to his ramblings.

“You’re dumb.”

“Right. Good to know I can always rely on you-”

“Just like I can always rely on you to be dumb. Why the hell are you acting so weird about this?”

“It all happened so fast, Tana. I told him I loved him!”

“Well, do you? Love him?”

Kurt couldn’t answer. She raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look. The situation, it’s- it’s… delicate.”

Santana sighed dramatically and decided to talk to Eliza, as Kurt was being such an idiot.

“Oh, honey, isn’t Daddy stupid?”

“Santana-”

“Kurt-”

“You don’t understand-”

“Yes I do. You’re head over heels in love with this guy, this adorable guy with a great ass who loves you back and even loves your kid, and you feel bad.”

Kurt frowned into his coffee cup.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would I feel bad?”

“Because of her.”

Again, it was impossible to argue. She’d nailed it.

“You’re crazy.”

“And you’re dumb. You know she’d scream at you, right? She’d slap you in your stupid face and tell you to marry him.”

“It’s not that simple-”

“Yes it is! Okay, tell me one thing: if this was the other way around, do you really think she’d hesitate for a second? If she was a single parent and had the chance to be with someone like that, do you think she’d feel the slightest bit guilty? Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute that you are. You’re a better person than she was.”

“Santana!”

“Hey, I’m not suddenly going to be nice about her just because she’s dead. And you can’t put everything you have on hold just because of how you’ve got it.”

Santana hugged Eliza a little closer and kissed her head. Of course she felt a pang of guilt. She was angry that this little girl didn’t have her mother, but she was also angry with Rachel for dying, for leaving Kurt alone and then making him feel bad when he finally moved on.

“It’s not fair.”

“What?”

“How do I get to have all of this? I get the baby and the job and the guy and she’s got nothing. She’s gone. She- she never even got to hold her. She didn’t get to take her to feed the ducks or sing her to sleep or rock her when she cried or- it’s not fair.”

Santana took his hand and squeezed it gently.

“You know what’s not fair? She lost her mom. It’s terrible. But it would be worse if the one parent she had left was miserable. She deserves a happy dad. Let’s face it; she deserves two. If something good can come out of this crap heap of a situation, you’d be an idiot to throw it away.”

Kurt took a deep breath. He knew she was right. He knew if he turned his back on Blaine now he’d regret it for the rest of his life. He knew he’d be physically incapable of turning his back on Blaine now, even if he wanted to. He didn’t want to. He squeezed her fingers between his.

“Thank you.”

She shrugged.

“Anyway, as much as I love seeing you, shouldn’t you be somewhere else? Where’s Blaine?”

He frowned.

“Bed.”

“You left that man in your bed to come and get boy advice from a lesbian? Get out. Go.”

She held the baby out in front of him and he couldn’t help smiling when she blinked contemplatively at him. He took her from Santana, kissing her nose and stroking her hair as he held her to his chest. He looked at Santana and had to bite his lip to stop himself beaming. He was going home to Blaine – he wasn’t sure if he was his nanny or best friend or boyfriend, but he was pretty sure he was his something.

He squeezed all the air from Santana’s lungs as he hugged her goodbye.

“Easy, tiger. Save it for him.”

***

Blaine stretched out on the bed, cat-like, until he realised he was alone. His heart started racing until he remembered Kurt getting up to see to Eliza. It kept racing, however when he smelled Kurt on the pillow and the sheets and suddenly all he could see, feel, hear was Kurt; Kurt’s eyes and hips and heavy breathing and groans and his face, so serious but so blissful, and that calm smile as they held each other, as if everything had just fallen into place.

He reached out to run his fingers over the space where Kurt had been, tracing indentations that had faded already. It didn’t matter; they were still etched onto his memory: every curve and dip and swell. Each movement was so vivid he was sure it was still happening. He could still feel Kurt’s eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. He listened out for the familiar sounds of him outside with the baby. All he could hear was silence.

He slid out of the bed, pausing to smirk at the rumpled heap that had previously been Kurt’s sheets, and wandered through the house – Eliza’s room, Kurt’s office, his room (if it was even his room anymore) and downstairs – the whole house was empty. He took slow, deep breaths. Of course Kurt was going to come back. It was his house. He hadn’t left a note, but maybe he’d just gone out for milk. They had milk. But milk is important. It’s full of calcium and is therefore vital for healthy bone growth. Kurt was simply a concerned, responsible father.

Blaine ran back upstairs to get his phone. He paced up and down between the kitchen and living room as he stabbed shakily at the buttons.

“Oh-my-God-Cooper-I-messed-it-up-and-he’s-gone-and-oh-my-God-”

“Blaine, slow down – who’s gone? What happened?”

“Kurt. Kurt’s gone.”

“What? He’s gone out?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause. Blaine could hear Cooper covering his mouth.

“You’re calling me because he left the house? Does he usually… stay in?”

If they’d been talking in person, Blaine would have punched him. But Cooper would have got him in a headlock and the conversation would have been severely delayed, so this was probably better by phone.

“This isn’t funny!”

“If you don’t think this is funny then you’re not listening properly.”

“No, Coop, you don’t- he- we- things are kind of… different.”

Cooper paused again, but this time it was because he was punching the air silently.

“Oh, really?” he tried and failed to be nonchalant, “Did something happen between you two? Did you have a fight?”

“Stop that.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stop acting like you don’t know.”

“Know what-”

“Oh Christ, Coop, you’re the worst liar. I remember you smirking when you met him. You couldn’t run away fast enough and you kept grinning. You know.”

“B, you’re going to have to be more specific-”

“Fine. I like him. And it turns out he liked me back.”

“Yes! I knew it- I mean, uh, what? Really?”

Blaine rubbed a hand over his eyes in exasperation.

“Cooper!”

“Okay, fine. So, liked, huh? Why past tense?”

“Because he’s gone.”

“Wait, go back. What actually happened before he, you know, went out?”

“Um. Everything.”

“You kissed him?”

“He kissed me. And I kissed him back. And we, uh, slept together.”

“Shit. Good work.”

“Shit? Why shit? Was it too fast?”

“Hasn’t it been, like, three months?”

“No, but we only just-”

“Shut up, Blaine. You’ve been crazy about him since, what, a week after you moved in? You’re fine.”

“But I told him I love him-”

“But you do love him.”

“Yeah.”

“And he said it back?”

“Yes.” He couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Now do you have any actual reason to call me other than the fact that your boyfriend has left the house?”

“No. Um. Well, how’ve you been?”

“Do you care?”

“Not really.”

“Are you suppressing a giggle because I called him your boyfriend?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m hanging up on you now. Moron.”

“Okay.”

“I’m happy for you, Blaine.”

“I’m happy for me too.”

The line went dead. Blaine smiled at the phone in his hand.

He heard a noise at the front door; the familiar scratching of the key in the wonky lock. He froze and stared as the door swung open to reveal a dishevelled Kurt and Eliza, both with pink cheeks and windswept hair and goofy smiles. Kurt wandered into the living room and stopped as soon as he saw Blaine. They stood perfectly still, staring at each other. Eliza looked from Kurt to Blaine and back again. Kurt could feel her judging him, and it was justified. It was probably a little late to play coy, but his mouth had forgotten how to work. It hung open as he stood two metres away from the man whose eyes had been rolling back in his head because of him just hours earlier. He would have laughed if he hadn’t felt so faint.

“H- hi.”

“Hey.”

They both swallowed, trying to clear a path for words to come out.

“Sorry for disappearing; I just, uh… I… I don’t know-”

“Freaked out?”

“Maybe. A tiny bit. I just needed to think. I went to Santana’s house, talked some stuff through.”

“Us stuff?”

Kurt nodded.

They went quiet again, breathing slowly and unsteadily.

“Did you… come to any conclusions?”

Kurt nodded again.

“One. Blaine Anderson; would you like to move in with me?”

Blaine narrowed his eyes, but resisted the urge to blurt out ‘but I already live here’ and let Kurt finish.

“I know, okay, I know you already live here, but… Would you like to stop being my roommate and start being my boyfriend?”

Blaine grinned.

Kurt grinned back.

“Is that a yes?”

Blaine nodded. Kurt’s smile got even wider.

“Can I kiss you now?”

That time, Blaine didn’t nod. Instead he took three steps forward and leaned up to kiss Kurt. It wasn’t hard and desperate like it had been earlier. It was unbelievably soft and sweet, and he wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist while Kurt draped his over Blaine’s shoulder, tangling his fingers lazily in his hair.

Eliza wondered if getting squished between these two was going to become a regular occurrence.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* this chapter is a bit cheeky too

Kurt could barely catch his breath. He reached back to run his fingers through Blaine’s hair, pulling his head forward until his lips were connecting with his shoulder blades. He used his other hand to cling to the headboard, the only thing keeping him upright as Blaine thrust into him. He was trembling, boneless, as he felt Blaine’s hands on him, one rubbing over his chest and stomach, grazing his nipple, while the other stroked his cock in time with the movements of his own hips. He pushed slowly inside him again, kissing his shoulders until they were almost bruised.

“Baby, you feel so good,” he whispered against Kurt’s neck, and all Kurt could do was groan in agreement. He felt amazing. They both took in shaky breaths, doing all they could to keep themselves from collapsing. Blaine held still, buried inside Kurt, pressing firmly on his prostate, making him buck forward involuntarily. Blaine wrapped an arm around his waist, binding them together as he rubbed Kurt’s cock slowly, running his thumb over the head, stroking firmly and deliberately back down to the base. It was torturously good, and Kurt had to snap his hand back over his mouth so they wouldn’t wake Eliza. They almost felt like teenagers, sneaking around so nobody could hear them, and it had become a challenge. Blaine liked to push Kurt as far as he could until they both wanted to scream; they usually did anyway, muffling their voices on each other’s skin or the bedding, but tonight Kurt had to bite his lip and stay silent, and Blaine knew it. 

He started to roll his hips again, agonisingly slowly, easing himself out of Kurt inch by inch, constantly whispering in his ear, ‘you’re so beautiful, Kurt; tell me what you want’, to which Kurt could only reply ‘you, more, please’. Blaine obliged, pulling Kurt’s head back and snapping his hips forward, slamming into him, burying himself completely in a second. Kurt let out a low, guttural moan as his head rested on Blaine’s shoulder. He reached back to tangle his fingers in Blaine’s hair as he started to move faster. Kurt bit hard onto his lip as he was filled up over and over, Blaine’s chest tight against his back, his hands caressing his stomach, his thighs, and joining his own hand as it stroked his cock. They both slid down and back to knead Kurt’s ass and pull his cheeks apart, allowing him to fuck into him quickly and roughly, the rhythm messy, the whispers of ‘fuck, yes, I’m, I, oh-’ slurred and desperate. 

Blaine clamped his mouth shut to muffle his whines as he came, his entire body quaking, his head falling forward onto Kurt’s spine. He pressed clumsy kisses to his skin as he reached his own orgasm, reaching back to grab at Blaine’s hips, locking them together. A shiver ran through his body and they both slumped forward, wrapped up in each other, before collapsing onto the mattress in a heap of sweat and come. They lay together across the bed, Kurt smiling and dizzy while Blaine leaned over him to lick his hand and stomach clean. He propped himself up on his elbow and kissed him slowly. Kurt’s leg instantly started to wrap around his waist, and he stroked his thigh, moving his lips down across his jaw, neck and chest until his mouth was next to his hand, kissing and adoring every inch of Kurt’s skin. This was when it was easy to be silent. When nothing was pleasurable to the point of painful ecstasy, when it was just them and the darkness, they loved to absorb each other quietly with kisses and touches and delicate whispers of ‘perfect’ and ‘love you’. Blaine moved back up to Kurt’s face, cupping his cheek gently. He kissed him again, the taste of sweat and come mingling on their tongues as they twisted together. Even when their mouths parted, their noses and foreheads and eyes were still connected. Blaine let out a hum of contentment and Kurt smiled up at him, taking a deep breath.

“It’s sweet when you do that.”

Blaine kissed his cheek and the corner of his mouth. Even when they could barely move, he never wanted to stop kissing him, touching him, loving him.

“Do what?”

Kurt brought his hand up to push Blaine’s hair back from his face.

“I don’t know. The way you look at me. S’nice.”

Blaine grinned and kissed along his jaw and up to his ear lobe, grazing it with his teeth, before whispering into his ear and sending another shiver coursing over his skin.

“I do that all the time. My Kurt face. All for you.”

They didn’t care that they weren’t making a lot of sense; they barely noticed. They were too busy enjoying their dizzy post-sex haze, and as Blaine moved towards Kurt’s neck again they both knew they wouldn’t get any more coherent any time soon. Suddenly, Kurt surged forward, kissing Blaine deliberately, almost forcefully. It took Blaine by surprise but he didn’t resist, letting Kurt roll him over and explore his mouth with his tongue. He felt Kurt smiling into the kiss as he slowed down, pulled away and rested his cheek on his chest. Kurt closed his eyes and entwined his fingers with Blaine’s.

Blaine frowned and lifted his head up to look down at him. He kissed his hair before letting his head flop back onto the bed, stroking his back absent-mindedly.

“What was that for?”

Kurt didn’t move his head.

“Do I need a reason?”

“Of course not; I just wanted to see if it was something I did. I’ll make sure I do it again.”

Kurt hummed against Blaine’s chest in agreement, kissing the bumps of his ribcage.

“In that case, it was for everything you did tonight. Do all of that again, a lot.” 

Blaine laughed.

“Noted.”

“Blaine?”

“Hmm?”

“I want us to have another baby.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows and his hand froze mid-stroke on Kurt’s back.

“Another?”

“Yeah. That’s what you say when you already have one and you want one more. An. Other.”

Blaine smiled and tightened his grip on Kurt’s torso.

“ _We_ already have one?”

Kurt lifted his head up, resting his chin on Blaine’s chest so he could look into his eyes.

“Yes we do. Blaine, you’re as much her father as I am. You know that, don’t you? I mean, I’ve only known her a couple months longer than you, and she didn’t do much then, to be honest. She’s yours.”

“She’s ours.” Blaine’s hand came up to stroke Kurt’s hair. “And yeah, I knew, but it’s nice to hear you say it.”

“Good. So. Another one. What do you think?”

Blaine frowned, pretending to think about it.

“I don’t know. I’m a traditional guy; I’m not sure if I could do it out of wedlock.”

Kurt’s eyes widened and he pushed on Blaine’s chest, raising himself up.

“Wait. What?”

“I actually had a whole thing planned, but-” he rolled out from underneath Kurt, sitting up and reaching to the back of the drawer of his nightstand. Kurt watched, awestruck, as he pulled out a small black box. He slipped off the bed and knelt next to it. He looked down at himself. “Is it wrong to do this naked?”

Kurt sat up, trying to catch his breath between surprise and laughter.

“You’ve done some of your best work naked. It’s fine.”

Blaine took a deep breath and opened the box, revealing a delicate silver band, laying a hand on Kurt’s knee to steady himself.

“Okay, um. Kurt. I’m still dizzy. But that isn’t just from what we just did. It is a little bit, but it’s also because you make me dizzy. You always have, and I don’t think it’s ever going to stop, so I’ll never be able to do this really well, not as well as you deserve, but I’m gonna try anyway.”

Kurt reached down to lay his palm on Blaine’s cheek.

“You don’t have to; you know I’m going to say-”

Blaine shushed him and put a hand over his mouth. Kurt swallowed and pulled his hand away, nodding to promise to let him finish. He held Blaine’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles softly.

“No, no, I do have to. I want to. I- you. It’s you. You do something to me. When I’m with you, when I’m just thinking about you, I feel so happy. Being here with you and Eliza, it was just supposed to be a job, a place to live, but now it’s home. You’re my home. Both of you, you’re my family, my heart, my whole world, and I want it to be like this all the time. I want you forever. Nobody else makes me feel so good or laugh so hard, and whatever happens, I want you to know that I’m always going to be here when you come home, and when Eliza’s grown up, and however many more kids we have, because yes, of course I want more, but when they’re all out in the world and it’s just you and me, nothing would make me happier. I want everything for us. I just want us and you and this because I love you. I love you so much, Kurt.” 

He took a deep breath, dropping his face onto their joined hands and laughing because it was supposed to be much more beautiful than that, there were going to be flowers and food and music and he wasn’t going to be naked, but he appreciated that Kurt was, and this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen, but he knew that wasn’t always how things worked. If all plans worked out, he wouldn’t be here.  
All he knew was that he was so in love with Kurt that if he didn’t promise him everything right now he’d regret it. He realised Kurt was smiling at him, biting his lip as a tear ran down his cheek. He felt Kurt’s thumb wiping away a tear he didn’t know he’d cried.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

“Marry me.”

“Okay.”

Kurt slid off the bed and fell to his knees in front of Blaine, letting the ring drop to the floor as he kissed him. The ring didn’t matter. All he cared about was in his arms, giving him the world, and all he wanted to do was share it with him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this about a year after the rest of the fic, when Rachel's pregnancy scare storyline happened. I imagined she'd been pregnant and decided to have an abortion, then decided to tie it into this verse, so warning for mentions of abortion and allusions to death.

“Hey, Kurt, I can’t make it to class today. Would you apologise to Carmen for me?”

“Sure; are you sick-” he turns to see her fully dressed, ready to go out. “Oh. I guess that’s a no. Honey, is something wrong? You’ve been quiet since I got back.”

“Oh. I- I have an appointment. It’s nothing.”

He frowns.

“What kind of appointment? If you’re cutting class so you and Brody can-”

“Kurt! He’s already at school. Just tell her? Please?”

“Rachel, what’s wrong? I’m not letting you go until you tell me.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Then you’d better tell me quickly.”

“I’m going to have a termination.”

His mouth falls slightly open. He reaches for her hand but she crosses her arms.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just have to go.”

He pauses before taking his coat from the stand and slipping it on.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“What? No, Kurt, I can do this by myself. I made the call by myself and God knows I got into this mess without any help from you. I’ve got to go.”

He takes her by the shoulders.

“Rachel. No. I don’t doubt that you can do anything by yourself, anything you want, but it doesn’t mean you have to. I’m coming with you.”

She almost argues, but she knows he won’t back down. And she’s more than a little relieved. He gives him the slightest of nods.

“Okay. Thank you, Kurt.”

“Don’t mention it. Have we got time for a hug?”

She swallows and nods again, and he pulls her close. She buries her face in his chest as he wraps his arms around her. He doesn’t leave her side until they get back home.

Kurt takes her coat off for her without thinking and she rolls her eyes.

“I’m not an invalid, Kurt. I can move my arms.”

“Sorry. Something about doctor’s offices puts me in caring mode.”

She smiles at him sadly.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, no. None of that. Can I get you anything? Tea?”

“I’ll just get a glass of water.”

Not many people would know what that means in Rachel terms, but Kurt does. He hugs her again and she lets herself be hugged. Brody’s not much of a hugger. God knows he’d have something charming and somewhat generic to say, but now she can just be quietly held. She knows it probably says a lot that she’s relieved Kurt was the one there today and not him, but she can’t deal with it right now.

“You can go sit down if you want,” he whispers in her ear. “I’ll bring it over.” She pauses and nods. She pads over to the couch and curls up on the sofa, huddling under a blanket, and he joins her with a blanket for himself and a glass of water. “How does it feel?”

She sips her drink and rubs a hand over abdomen.

“A little sore. It’ll be okay.” She pauses, gazing into her glass. “I’m sorry, Kurt.”

“It’s fine. Carmen likes me; I’m sure she’ll forgive me for skipping a seminar.”

She doesn’t even crack a smile.

“It’s not fine. It’s not fair.”

He takes her hand but she doesn’t look up.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m such an idiot, Kurt,” her voice is trembling, “it’s so unfair. People would kill for this. Look at my dads, and everything they had to go through to have me. Look at-” she glances up at Kurt for a moment before looking down at her lap again. “You know what I mean. You told me to stop screwing around and I didn’t listen.”

“Rachel, it’s okay. These things happen. You’re human.”

“I didn’t even know whose it was, Kurt. I can’t believe I’ve been such an idiot. I swear I’ll stop. I’ll end it with Finn for good, I’ll talk to Brody, I’ll-”

She starts to stand up but winces and sits back down, a hand over her stomach.

“Rachel, you don’t have to do anything. This isn’t some kind of punishment. It’s not a message from God to change your ways. It just happened.”

“It happened because I’ve been a slut, Kurt. You know I have.”

“Two guys doesn’t make you a slut. And even if it did, that wouldn’t mean you deserved this. It doesn’t change the fact that you made a really brave decision today. You did the responsible thing. I’ve never known anyone have to do anything so brave before.”

She takes a sip of water, cupping her hands protectively around the glass. Kurt shuffles closer to her and she tucks her head under his chin. He strokes her back soothingly. He isn’t sure why. He thinks it’s something his mother used to do.

“I’m really glad you were there.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same. I mean, if it were possible. I’m always here if you need me.”

“No, but…” she starts, looking up at him from where she’s curled into his side, “I’m glad it was you. Not him. Either of them.”

“Well, boys are hopeless.”

“Kurt.”

She pulls away slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I love you. I love you the most. Always.”

His eyes water and he has to bite his lip. He pulls her close again.

“I love you too, Rachel Berry.” She whispers 'sorry' a few more times as she cried almost inaudibly into the wool of his sweater. Kurt doesn't try to stop her. He knows it isn't him she’s apologising to. “You know, some day it won’t be like this. One day you’ll be with someone really amazing, someone who deserves you, and you’ll have a family all on your terms. You’ll be an amazing mom someday, I swear.”

She doesn’t say anything. She just puts her glass on the coffee table and hugs her best friend as tightly as she can.

***

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Rach.”

He squeezes her hand and kisses her sweaty forehead one more time and runs out. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a moment.

It doesn’t hurt anymore. She kind of wishes it did. 

She can hear talking around her, but she doesn’t understand any of it. It’s too technical and she’s too drugged up and overwhelmed. Every couple of weeks for the last nine months, something’s happened that’s made all of this seem more real. The first time they heard her heartbeat. The first time she felt her move. When they found out she was a she. When Rachel practically doubled in size in the space of a week, she thought that was it. Surely it couldn’t get any more real and immediate than being almost as round as she was tall, carrying a boulder between her hips and having a nursery and bottles and tiny clothes. She was wrong. Now she’s had her baby girl in her arms, if only for a moment, and she feels like she could float away. 

Nothing compares to this; her first part in a show, her Broadway debut, her first standing ovation in a real theatre, they all fade into obscurity compared to this. She’s a mother. She is what she’s always wanted to have, always wanted to be, and now there’s a baby girl outside, and her best friend, her soul mate, taking care of her.

She takes a deep breath and feels a little dizzy. She’s glad she made Kurt go. It doesn’t surprise her when a doctor swears from behind the curtain constructed over her chest.

“It’s not… oh Jesus, fuck, what’s happening? Somebody get Carter back in here!”

She doesn’t ask what’s happening. Somehow she already knows. She knew before she even saw the baby.

“Miss Berry,” the midwife says to her in her best attempt at a calm voice, “there’s been a complication. We’re getting a surgeon to fix it. Everything’s going to be- we- we’re doing everything we can, I promise.”

Rachel nods.

“Okay. It’s okay.”

“Would you like me to bring your partner back in here?”

She shakes her head slowly.

“He should be with the baby. I’m fine.”

“Miss Berry, I really think-”

“No.”

She’s quiet, but firm. The midwife nods, keeps holding her hand. There’s more talking, long words that sound like a different language. Rachel ignores them. She keeps breathing and thinking about the baby. Her mind drifts to her dads, her friends, Finn, even Shelby, but they come back over and over to Kurt and the baby. Her family. Kurt held her hand when she was nineteen and she made a stupid mistake, and now he’s done the same as their daughter was born. It’s come full circle, complete.

The tone has changed in the room. It’s frantic, but she feels calm. She knows. Someone tells her they’re putting her to sleep, something about blood loss and time and she barely reacts. She’s dying. If it hadn’t been for the baby, she probably wouldn’t be, but she is. She doesn’t have to think about it to know she’d do it all over again.

All she can do is pray for Kurt and the baby, pray for her family to be okay, to be looked after, as her eyes slide closed.

***

Kurt was clinging to Blaine’s hand for dear life, clutching the flowers in his arm. Eliza was bundled up and balanced on Blaine’s hip, wrapped in a thick coat, hat and scarf. She could have walked, but it’s cold and today holding her hand just didn’t feel comforting enough. They walked slowly past trees and benches and dozens, maybe hundreds of slabs, different grey tints, in different states of neglect. Some had flowers, some had dead ones, some nothing at all.

“Are you okay?”

Kurt nodded.

“I will be.”

They kept walking until they reached the spot under a bare tree. Eliza buried her face in Blaine’s shoulder, grabbing fistfuls of his lapels, and he hugged her a little closer to keep her warm.

It was December 18th.

“Happy birthday, Rachel.”

Kurt laid the bouquet in front of the headstone. Rachel Barbra Berry. 1994-2025. Friend, mother, star. He stood quietly for a moment.

“Do you want a minute alone?” Blaine asked. Kurt shook his head.

“No. Stay. It’s weird, I can never think of anything to say when I’m here. I just miss her. It seems too simple but that’s it. I miss my best friend.”

Blaine heard the crack in his voice. He squeezed his hand and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Eliza squirmed as he held her.

“Da!”

They both looked at her in surprise. She’d never said that before.

She grabbed at Blaine’s face, tugging his scarf loose and grinning at him.

“Da!”

Blaine looked apologetically at Kurt. Kurt rolled his eyes and lifted her out of his arms.

“That’s right, baby, that’s Daddy.”

She laid a hand of either side of his face, squeezing at his cheeks until he scrunched his nose up and she giggled.

“Da! Da-da!”

He raised his eyebrows at Blaine as if to say ‘see?’

“Yeah, Lizzie, you get two daddies, you lucky girl!”

He kissed her cheek and Blaine kissed his.

“Do you want to… say anything?”

Kurt shook his head.

“She knew. She knows.” He bent forward to touch the stone for a second, squeezing the pale grey ridge. “Come on you, let’s stop you from turning into an icicle.”

“Da-da!” she said again, snuggling into his collar. He smiled.

“Kiss.” She pressed her lips to his cheek as requested and he grinned. He turned to see Blaine still by the grave, gripping the stone as he had before. He didn’t say anything, but he glanced at the sky for a moment. He looked sombre. “Blaine? Are you coming?”

Blaine turned to face him, smiling brightly.

“Yep!”

He jogged to catch up with them.

“Okay?”

Blaine nodded.

“Just paying my respects. Let’s go home.”

He held Eliza’s hand, using his spare hand to rub at the small of Kurt’s back, and looked up again.

_I’ll look after them. I promise._


End file.
